


Knock Me Down (I Want to Fall)

by masquerace



Series: Knock Me Down [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Mental Health Issues, Coming Out, Cute Kids, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It’s a lot of angst but there is fluff I promise, M/M, References to Eric Bittle’s Time as a Figure Skater, Rocky Father-Son Relationships, Schooners win the cup in 2015, Self Confidence Issues, Supportive Jack Zimmermann, hockey injuries, nhl jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-02-09 22:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 57,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masquerace/pseuds/masquerace
Summary: Eric Bittle was always used to being two shakes shy of imposed expectations, and he's slowly learning that maybe he's something special.





	1. Build Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of really strong emotions about Bitty, and this fic is mostly a self-indulgent conglomeration of all my feelings and headcanons about him. Specifically about existential dread and wrongful acceptance about who he is.

Bitty was stress baking. It was barely over a month into fall semester, and their first game was in a week. Sure, the team was a well-oiled machine with a intense desire to win by this point, but Bitty knew any mistakes would fall back on him. He was the captain now, and that made him liable for his boys. They followed his lead, and Bitty was terrified now that it was finally sinking in that this was actually _real_. He still could barely believe he was elected, let alone unanimously. The last thing he wanted was to let everyone down. The coaches moved him from right wing to center after the banquet in spring, and he was only just now getting used to the slight differences the change made. He was lucky to have Ollie and Wicks as brilliant forwards alongside him on his line.

He realistically knew that he was overblowing the situation. Bitty replayed every conversation with Jack about this very train of thought and focused on what Bitty would tell him.

_“Every time you’re out on the ice, honey, it isn’t just you out there. Your team relies on you, sure, but they’re your team. You’re doing this together and any shortfalls are never entirely on you. You’re a fantastic player and that will remain true regardless of any mistakes.”_

Bitty wasn’t so sure if that last part really applied to him. He knew his strengths on the ice, sure, but was he actually a good player? At least, one that warranted him making captain? He had full trust in his boys. That wasn’t going to change. It was himself he seriously doubted. Bitty closed his eyes for a moment, gripped the edge of the countertop, and let himself breathe. The longer he thought about the approaching game the worse he felt. But _not_ thinking about it seemed impossible. He reopened his eyes.

The dough lining the pan on the counter was only half molded, and a bitter grin stretched across Bitty’s face when he realized that was exactly how he felt. Unfinished.

Chowder sat at the kitchen table, silently watching his captain throw himself into preparing quiches. He munched on one of the freshly baked cookies from earlier with a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“You seem a little stressed, Cap.”

Bitty almost laughed aloud at that. Instead he cracked a smile and met Chowder’s eyes. He’d never tell the rest of the team, but he thinks if he had to choose a favorite frog Chowder would quickly beat them out.

“You might have something there, Chowder.”

“Sorry.” Chowder frowned. “Do you want to talk about it? I, uh, I know I’m not the best person to give you advice or anything, but I know I always feel better about stuff after talking to you. Plus, Farms says I’m a pretty okay listener.”

Bless this boy. Bitty set the now filled pie shell on the counter and sighed. “I suppose you have a point. Normally I’d call Jack, but I just know he’s as stressed as I am for near the same reasons and I don’t want to bother him over me being silly for no real reason.”

“Oh.”

“Let me get this in the oven and I’ll join y—” Bitty cut himself off when his phone rang. He quickly shoved the quiche into the oven and checked the caller ID.

He mouthed a quick apology to Chowder. “Hey, Momma.”

“Dicky! I’m glad I caught you. I just know y’all have your hands full with the big game this weekend.”

Bitty swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Yeah, Momma. The boys and I are training hard to prepare.”

“Now don’t let this interfere with your studies, alright?”

“Of course, Momma.”

His mother hesitated, and it made Bitty instinctually tense up. “Dicky, I have a little bit of a surprise for you. A good surprise, don’t fret.”

“Oh?” Bitty was still weary. He wasn’t sure where this was going, but there was still a slight possibility it wouldn’t be good despite her assurances.

“I thought that since you’re a captain now—which we’re so tickled about, we really are!—we thought we’d fly on up to see your first game this weekend! I know it’s only been a near two months since we saw you, but we do miss you terribly.”

“I miss you too, M—wait, _we_?”

“Well, yes! That’s part of the surprise. Your Daddy is so proud, he’s managed a way to get the weekend off to fly up with me for the occasion. It’s been a while since he’s seen you play in person, and we thought you’d be thrilled to have us both up there cheering you on!”

If Bitty wasn’t stressed before, he definitely was now. The last time Coach saw him play hockey in person was during his football team’s off week his sophomore year in high school. He hasn’t had to worry about his eyes on him for _six years_. Bitty swallowed again and did his best to feign excitement.

“That’s great, Momma! I can’t wait to see the both of y’all up here. Don’t you let Coach think he’ll be able to get out of the same tour I gave you, neither.”

“Ooh, I am so excited to see you, Dicky. I’m sure you’ll do so well. Well, I’ll let you go get back to whatever you were up to before I interrupted you. I love you, and we’ll see you soon.”

“Love you too, Momma. I, uh, can’t wait to see y’all.” Bitty knew his words sounded a little hollow, but the dread settling in his stomach made it hard for him to sound as bubbly as usual.

After hanging up, Bitty sank into the chair opposite Chowder and pressed his face onto the cool wood with his hands in his hair. He groaned loudly.

“Like I said, I’m not the best at this, but I definitely think that conversation made whatever’s stressing you out worse.” Chowder seemed very confused, but his concern was well-meant.

“Coach is coming to the game on Saturday. And hoo boy if that ain’t a complicated situation.”

“Coach?”

“My daddy.”

“If that’s what’s bothering you, can’t you just pretend he’s not there or something?”

Bitty sat up and let himself breathe in deeply and then sigh heavily. “That’s looking like my only option.”

“We’ve got your back, Cap. All of us, uh, not just me.” Chowder grinned awkwardly.

Bitty smiled. “I know.”

He flipped the conversation on Chowder, feeling too emotionally exhausted to continue focusing on his own issues, and asked the goalie about Caitlin. Chowder immediately brightened up and began rambling on about how she convinced him to take the same elective course as her that semester and that he was already thoroughly enjoying the extra time he got to see her during the week. Bitty egged him on with short questions while he waited for his quiche to finish baking, really only half listening. When the timer went off, Bitty made his excuses and ducked out of the kitchen and headed up to his room once the dish was on the counter to cool.

The UGA banner on his bedroom wall seemed to mock him.

He resisted the urge to rip it down.


	2. Down, Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SMH face off against Cornell in the first game of the season.

Saturday crept up on them faster than Bitty anticipated. His folks arrived in Samwell that morning, and Bitty nervously guided them on a tour around campus. He ended it at Faber and relished in the cool air the building offered. The chill washed over him and eased his nerves, giving Bitty time to collect himself before suggesting that the three of them go somewhere for lunch. Bitty left them to their own devices at around three, citing that the team had warm-ups and last minute practice before they had to be ready at 6:30. Finally alone for the first time in hours, Bitty let the unease Coach’s expectant gaze gave him roll off his shoulders. He could do this. 

Practice whirled by and they were all clearly operating at their best. Cornell wasn’t a particularly great team, but the coaches took the time to warn them about the other team’s D-men. They apparently had a pension for starting fights, which made Bitty’s nerves hike up a notch. Even though he could push himself through checks fairly effectively now, the prospect made him shiver. He’d have to be careful.

He clutched his new jersey to steady himself. The “C” on his chest was a heavy reminder of his responsibility, but, as he reminded himself, it was also a symbol of the unending trust the rest of the team had in him. Bitty was ready.

They played well. Bitty blocked out the crowds and focused on getting the puck in the goal. The first period had them tied with two points each, one of which Bitty scored with an assist from Wicks. Dex and Nursey barreled into them both for a hug afterwards and Bitty let himself laugh. They rehydrated and talked strategy during first intermission, readying themselves to step back out on the ice. As the coaches talked and praised their efforts so far, Bitty felt his chest glow. They were doing so well. _He_ was doing well. Bitty almost forgot about Coach’s heavy stare from across the ice.

The second period started smoothly, with Samwell quickly taking the lead with two more goals. Bitty made a mental note to bake Chowder something special with how easily he caught the puck over and over before it even had a chance to make it into the net. With five minutes left on the clock, Bitty spotted an opening for him to pull a hat trick and zeroed in on the empty ice. He was fast and accurate as he moved, passing the puck to Ollie whenever he dodged a member of the opposing team.

For half a second Bitty glanced up to the stands and made eye contact with his parents. Time slowed as he saw their thrilled faces break open into concern. He could barely make out someone calling his name before a sudden force knocked into his shoulder. A hard surface pressed into his back as an elbow rammed directly into his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. Bitty’s helmet snapped against the divider, and he struggled to remind himself how to breathe. Stars danced and exploded in front of his eyes. His world went shaky as he gasped in a silent plea for the breath that got knocked out of him to come back. He could blurrily make out his team raising hell with the Cornell team while referees hauled the D-man who hit him away.

He could only hear his heartbeat over the sound of anything else.

Everything was a laggy swirl of white and red.

He couldn't focus on anything.

He felt like he was floating.

His stomach flipped, and for half a second he wondered if he was going to puke.

 _Lord_ , his chest hurt.

His brain barely registered the feeling of the cool ice on his ass and thighs through his uniform before everything spun back to the present in full speed. 

The crowd roared in his ears and Bitty _wheezed_. The D-man was easily twice Bitty’s weight, and the blond quietly praised himself for not passing out. Suddenly, Nursey appeared by his side, helped him up, and steered him towards the bench. Bitty grabbed the thermos they offered him and choked down enough water to get his throat working again.

“I’m okay. I’m okay. _Fuck_.”

Coach Hall put his hand on Bitty’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. “Are you sure? We can pull you out if you aren’t up to it. That was a nasty hit, and no one here will blame you for tapping out.” 

Bitty bit back a comment about his father. “No, I can do it. I’m okay, really. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

Hall studied Bitty’s face for a couple beats before nodding and letting Bitty go. “Alright.” He looked up at the rest of the team crowding around the two. “Don’t let them get one more point. Go.”

They skated back out onto the ice and positioned themselves for the next faceoff. Bitty knew the only reason they didn’t forcibly pull him from the ice is because he had the protection of the captaincy. Hall signaled to the refs, the puck dropped, and the rest of the game passed in a blur.

Bitty didn’t get his hat trick. They do score one more time in the third period, winning at 5-2. His ears still rang from the crowd and his check, but he settled onto the bench in the locker room without mentioning it. The rest of the team, though clearly thrilled, noticed how quiet Bitty was as he started easing off his gear. It hurt to lift his arms over his head to ease the jersey over his head. Bitty hoped that wasn't a bad sign.

He’s still in his undershirt and pants when Shitty burst into the locker room. 

“Where the fuck is he.” His eyes met Bitty’s and he barreled through the group of hockey players to get to him. “Holy shit, bro. Are you alright?”

“Shitty. You… You’re here.”

“Yeah, bro, Jack sent me for moral support since he's been stuck at practice and couldn't sneak out for your first game. He wanted me to record it for him.”

Bitty nodded and sighed, a soft smile ghosting across his lips. “That boy... And, to answer your question, I am fine. A little winded, but overall peachy keen.” 

Shitty frowned, as if skeptical of him. Bitty wasn’t lying, though. He felt alright. His chest was throbbing a little from where that brute slammed his elbow into him, but he was otherwise fine. He eased out of his sweat-soaked undershirt and saw Shitty’s jaw drop.

He looked down and saw an ugly purple bruise staining most of his chest. “Lord.” His voice was breathy. “ _Shit_.” 

Right then Coach Murray walked in. “Bittle, hurry up. Your parents are asking to see—“ He paused on seeing Bitty. “Scratch that. I’m getting medical.”

“It’s… It’s just a bruise, really.” Bitty’s voice caught in his throat. He was never very squeamish but just knowing that his chest was colored purple made his stomach flip for the second time that evening.

Murray shot Bitty a look and then left the locker room. Antsy with everyone’s eyes on him, Bitty made quick work of shucking off the rest of his hockey gear and ducking into the showers. The hot water turned his freckled skin pink, but it felt wonderful on his aching muscles. He couldn’t linger there forever, though. Feeling clean again, Bitty dried off and slipped into the sweats he was wearing earlier.

The team nurse was waiting for him when he got out and hustled him into one of the offices. After checking for any sign of abnormalities, the nurse cracked a soft smile. 

“Well, it seems like you’re more or less in good shape, considering. You’re lucky your helmet didn’t fly off or you would’ve definitely gotten a nasty concussion.”

Bitty let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He thought for sure his head snapping against the divider earlier would do some damage, helmet or no. That would have made his second concussion, and there was no way Murray or Hall would let him back on the ice after that.

“Although, you did say your chest still ached, right?”

“Well, yes.”

The nurse nodded and dug in his medical kit for a few seconds before producing a bottle of pain killers. “Take two of these every twelve hours. If the pain hasn’t gone away in two days, I want to get your sternum x-rayed to check for a fracture.”

“I guess that sounds fair enough. So you don’t think there’s any reason to pull me off the ice?” Bitty clutched the pill bottle and failed at hiding the worry in his tone.

“Only in the case of a fracture. I do want you to take it easy for the next few days, though. Don’t push yourself unnecessarily in case it is something more serious.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Now go see your parents. Your mother is quite a force to be reckoned with.” The nurse smiled and Bitty couldn’t help the soft laughter bubbling in his chest.

A soft buzz from his pocket alerted him to a text message as he made his way out of the office.

 **Jack:** _Call me ASAP._

Bitty sighed. Shitty probably already told him everything. He sent a quick message saying he was alright and letting Jack know it would be a bit before he could call.

Suzanne immediately threw her arms around Bitty when he finally emerged from the locker room.

“Oh, _Dicky!_ I’m so glad you’re alright. You are alright, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes, Momma, the nurse said I had a clean bill of health. Nothing but a lil’ ache and a bruise.”

“They left it up to you whether or not you finished the game, didn’t they?” Coach’s voice was surprisingly tender. “You chose to stay in. That was a helluva strong decision, Junior.”

“Th-thanks, Coach.” Bitty felt a whirl of giddiness swirl in chest amidst the dull ache. Coach _complimented_ him. In reference to a _sport_. “They, uh, need me, y’know? Part of my job as captain and all.”

His mother finally let him go but still kept her hands on his cheeks. “You’ve changed a bit, haven’t you, Dicky? You’ve grown while we weren’t paying attention and now look at you! I still remember when you tried peewee football and you’d plum near faint if the opposing team so much as looked at you.”

Bitty flushed softly, knowing some of his team were still in earshot. “Momma, please.” He gently pulled her hands off his face and held them in his own. “Can we go get dinner somewhere? I’m near starving after all that.”

By the time Bitty got back to the Haus that night, his head was reeling. His parents were proud of him for something other than his baking, and knowing that he had their approval in another area of his life made his heart sing. As he sunk into his bed though, he thought of Jack. Hearing secondhand about his brutal check from someone as dramatic as Shitty and having to sit at home and worry about it for almost two hours now. Bitty immediately called him.

Jack picked up on the first ring, clearly stressed. “Bits, are you alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart. I’ll be nursing a bruise on my chest for a week or two, but the nurse at Faber didn’t seem concerned at all. No concussion, no signs of any real damage. As long as the ache I feel goes away in a few days, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What if it doesn’t go away, though?” Bitty could almost hear Jack scrunching his face up the way he does when he’s worried. A part of him chastised himself for even mentioning the chance his injury could be worse than it seemed.

Bitty sighed. “Then… there’s a slight possibility my sternum is fractured. But I really don’t think it hurts enough for that. I’ve fractured bones before and that’s hurt much worse than this.”

Jack grunted at that, and Bitty wished he could wrap himself around the other boy to comfort him. “You know, I’m a pacifist. But I could probably kill the guy who did that to you right now if I got my hands on him. What was his name, Harris? I swear—“

“How do you know his name?” Bitty wasn’t even sure of the name plastered on the back of the D-man that assaulted him and he was there.

“Shitty posted the video he took of your match in the group chat.”

Of course. “I haven’t had the time to check yet. I just got back from dinner with my parents.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you said they were coming up this weekend. How did that go?”

“Strangely well. Coach almost straight up said he was proud of me for something sports related, which never happens. And of course Momma was a mess after that check. She kept talking about how much I’ve grown.”

“I like your parents.” Jack’s soft laughter echoes through the receiver and sends a wave of warmth through Bitty. “They’re so… Southern.”

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, what on Earth does that even mean?” 

There’s no response except breathy laughter from Jack, and Bitty rolled his eyes. They sat in silence for a moment after Jack’s laughter quieted before Jack spoke up again.

“I texted Georgia after Shitty told me what happened. Monday’s practice is optional, so I let her know I’d be skipping. I have to see you.” A shaky breath. “I have to see for myself that you’re okay. Hearing about it happening and then watching it happen knowing that it was going to made me realize how scared the possibility of you getting hurt makes me.”

Bitty shut his eyes and imagined the warmth of his bed sheets was Jack wrapping his arms around him. He hummed softly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, Bits. I can’t wait to have you all to myself for a day or two.”

“Well, my parents’ flight doesn’t leave until noon tomorrow, and I do have class on Monday, but it’s just the one seminar. And the boys are already tripping over themselves to make sure I don’t need anything, so they’ll certainly be all around. So, you’ll _almost_ have me all to yourself.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way.”

Bitty shivered at the thought. They chatted absently until Bitty couldn’t keep his eyelids up any longer. Jack said his good night's first, noting how Bitty's murmurs quickly grew quieter and less coherent. Only after Jack reminded him he'd see him tomorrow did Bitty reluctantly concede.

Bitty fell asleep with his phone still cradled against his cheek and the pain in his chest dulled by thoughts of Jack.


	3. Coddled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn't't intend for this to be very long, but I've now accumulated so many ideas that it looks like this fit is going to push 10 chapters or more. You guys seem to like what I've posted so far, though, so I guess this is a good thing??? I have a lot of feelings about Eric Bittle whoops.

Jack arrived at the Haus at eight o’clock the next morning, much to the chagrin of his boyfriend. The repeated buzzing of his phone ripped a very grumpy Eric Bittle from the safety of sleep. Jack had texted him three times to let him know he was getting close to Samwell and then another five to get him to go unlock the door. Bitty replied with a quick _“hang on”_ before yanking on a shirt in an exhausted daze. He winced at the movement but brushed it off in his rush to see Jack. He pulled Bitty to his chest the second the door opened, and Bitty suddenly forgot he was annoyed at being woken up that early. He melted into Jack’s arms and felt completely calm for the first time in over a week.

“I probably shouldn’t be holding you this tight, but I’m too glad you’re alright to care.”

Bitty smiled softly. “Even if I wasn’t before, I definitely am now.”

Jack pulled back slightly and looked at Bitty inquisitively. Bitty immediately looked away and bit his lip.

“Is something bothering you? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Bitty mentally chastised himself for saying anything. He opted to stay silent, focusing instead on the way Jack’s arms felt around him.

“What happened to our promise to talk about the things that are bothering us, eh?”

“Oh honey,” Bitty shook his head softly, “I didn’t want to bother you. I knew I was being ridiculous—and that you would tell me just that.”

Fully releasing Bitty from his grip, Jack nudged his boyfriend to head back upstairs. “I still want you to feel like you can talk to me, ridiculousness aside.”

“I… I know.”

Bitty shut the door to his room behind them and sank down next to Jack on his messy bed with his head in his hands.

“It’s so difficult to wrap my head around the fact that the guys actually wanted me to be captain. I mean, Lord, I’m thrilled. Really. But I still feel like I’m fixing to faint at every check. What kind of team has a captain who can’t even take a hit? There’s still a part of me that feels like more of a liability to these guys than an asset. Y’all keep telling me how great y’all think I am, but I honestly don’t see it. There’s a part of me who feels like this huge fuck up and that this injury only proves that’s true.”

Jack nods slowly, processing Bitty’s words. “You’re right.”

Bitty looked up and blinked in shock at Jack’s agreement.

“You _are_ being ridiculous, bud.”

He continued before Bitty had a chance to ruthlessly chirp Jack for scaring him. “I’ve told you this before, but you’re the heart and soul of Samwell’s team, and really that should be enough of a reason as to why you’re captain. I don’t think you realize how good a skater you are on top of that, though. Georgia has point blank told me that if we weren’t dating, she’d recruit you for the Falconers in a heartbeat because she sees you as an incredibly formidable player.”

“Wait, _really_?”

“Yes.” Jack grinned and pressed a soft kiss to Bitty’s lips. “Don’t you dare think about breaking up with me to take her up on that offer, though.”

That made Bitty laugh. “Sweet pea, as if I would ever. I don’t think I’d ever really want to go professional anyway. I’m perfectly content living vicariously through your adventures in the NHL.”

“As long as you’re happy, bud.”

“You make me happy.”

Jack smiled and gazed softly at Bitty with the dopey love-struck eyes he reserved solely for Bitty. Despite any stress he felt about the upcoming season, Bitty had to admit he was pretty lucky. He’d never know what he did to deserve Jack in his life, but fuck if he didn’t want to relish every second of it. Bitty wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and swung his legs over so he was half sitting in Jack’s lap. Jack pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. They sat like that for a few minutes and relished each other’s company.

“Hey.” Jack’s softened voice eventually broke the comfortable silence. “Take your shirt off.”

Bitty blushed furiously. “Oh, um… I mean—”

“To see your injury. I… not like…” Jack closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m still worried about you, and I’m going to continue being worried until I see for myself.”

“Right.” Bitty chirped himself internally and shifted his weight off of Jack. “It looks worse than what it is, okay?”

Jack nodded once, and Bitty took it as a cue to pull his shirt over his head. Despite being a little over than twelve hours since his hit, the edges of the bruise had already started to yellow. Regardless, it seemed worse and more unevenly discolored than last night. Jack’s fingers lightly brushed the swollen skin, and Eric nervously chewed his lower lip. His chest ached harshly, reminding Bitty that he hadn’t taken his painkillers yet that morning. Jack accidentally pressed against Bitty’s chest, and he let out a low hiss when the pain spiked red-hot at the touch. Jack immediately pulled back with an apology already on his tongue.

Eric squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, taking Jack’s hand with his own. “Shh, honey. It’s okay.”

He took a few moments to let himself breathe before relaxing again and reopening his eyes. Jack was staring at him intently, concern painted across his face.

“That doesn’t seem like you’re okay, Bittle.”

“So it’s tender. Bruises get tender when they start healing up.” Bitty reached over to where he placed the pill bottle the night before and swallowed a dose down. 

Jack didn’t look convinced. “I know you said the nurse thought you were more or less alright, but I’m not convinced.”

“Jack…”

“I’m going to go get you some ice. Lay down and let me take care of you.”

Bitty tightened his grip on Jack’s hand. “I have to meet my parents for lunch before their flight in two hours. How do you expect me to explain why you drove down here, skipping practice, to take care of me?”

“Right.” Jack sighed. “I hate that you’re hurt.”

“I know. I wish I could just let you pamper me all morning, but I’m not ready to face the consequences that would come with that today. Even if my parents seem more supportive than usual right now.”

Jack gave Bitty’s hand a quick squeeze before pulling away. “Alright, but you have to put ice on your chest until you have to get ready to meet them.”

“Deal.”

They both lazed on Bitty’s bed in relaxed silence for as long as they could. The bed was clearly too small to comfortably fit two adult hockey players—Bitty’s height aside—but they didn’t really mind having their shoulders pressed up next to each other. Jack propped his head up on his shoulder, opting to stay on his side so Bitty could let gravity hold the icepack against his chest for him, and let himself study Bitty’s face. Eric was looking forward up at the ceiling lost in thought. A ghost of a smile tugged on his face, but his eyes held a twinge of sadness. Jack hated seeing Bitty upset.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Bitty turned his head to meet Jack’s eyes. “Hm?”

“You seem distracted.”

“Oh.” Bitty sighed and focused on the Falconers logo on Jack’s shirt. “I keep pondering about what might happen if this does turn out to be worse than just a bruise. This is more than likely my last year playing hockey, and I don’t want that game to have been my last. I already lost figure skating.”

Jack carded a free hand through Bitty’s hair. “You’ve been so sure that it’s nothing serious, bud. What changed?”

“I reckon it’s ‘cause all y’all haven’t been as sure. And I’m wrong a lot, Jack.”

Jack wanted to assure Bitty that everyone was blowing things out of proportion and that he’d be back in shape in a day or two, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He couldn’t get the image of that hockey player ramming his elbow directly into Bitty out of his head. The video Shitty took was shaky and low quality, but Jack could make out the excruciating pain in Bitty’s expression. It was almost haunting him.

Bitty turned back away once he realized Jack wasn’t going to say anything to that. He picked up his phone absently but eased himself up on seeing the time.

“I have to get ready. I’ll be back after I see my parents off and we can lay like this all day.”

“I’m going to hold you to that. Are you sure you don’t want me to at least drive you?”

Bitty shook his head. “We’re meeting at Jerry’s, and it’d honestly be faster to walk from here anyway.”

“Promise you won’t overdo it?”

“Promise.”

Bitty dumped the icepack on the floor and clambered over Jack. Jack watched him as he changed out of sweats and into his usual wardrobe. Bitty pressed a chaste kiss to Jack’s temple before rushing out the door.


	4. Hidden?

It took several minutes of assurances before Bitty convinced his parents—mainly his mother—that he didn’t need them to stay any longer than they had planned to look after him.

“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do, Dicky?”

Bitty shook his head. “Honest, there’s no need. I’ll keep y’all posted when I go back to the team nurse tomorrow, and regardless of what he says there’s nothing y’all could do anyway. ‘Sides, Coach has to get back to the high school for class tomorrow.”

His dad nodded once, eyeing Bitty with the same thoughtful expression he’d been wearing since Bitty’s check.

“He’s right, Suzanne. Junior’s grown. He can take care of himself.”

“Maybe I’d feel better about leaving you if you had a sweetheart to keep you company through this. Unless…” She looked up hopefully. “There is a special girl in your life?”

Bitty frowned. “No, Momma.”

“Leave the boy alone, Suzanne. But,” Coach leaned over their table at Jerry’s, lowering his voice only slightly, “I bet you could use that injury of yours to gain their sympathies.”

Suzanne gaped, exaggeratedly scandalized. “ _Richard_.”

“Can we please not talk about this.” Bitty buried his burning face in his hands.

His parents laughed softly, and Bitty felt a twinge in his gut when he thought of Jack waiting back at the Haus for him. He wished he could just _tell_ them and get it over with. But he wasn’t ready to break that particular news to them. Not yet.

Bitty spent the rest of lunch probing for town gossip and news about the Morgan County football team. Football and bake sale season always coincided, so his parents each had a lot to say about their respective interests. He found himself only half paying attention, though. His earlier conversation with Jack still bothered him, and he couldn’t tell if he was only imagining that the pain in his chest was sharper or not. The team saw him as someone worth following, he finally had friends who respected him, and Coach was actually proud of him. His fifteen-year-old self would have been overjoyed with his current situation. But he couldn’t help but think that this injury was going to reverse all that progress. Like he was wimping out all over again like he did with football. And ice skating.

“—now that boy’s mother may have a right to be proud of him, but let me tell you, her _cobbler_ —Dicky? Are you alright?”

His mother caught him frowning at his thoughts. Bitty smiled and tried to assure her that he was fine, but when he opened his mouth, a cough ripped through him and suddenly his lungs felt like they were exploding. His head spun from the pain. It took a few moments of clutching his shirt in his fists with his eyes screwed shut before he could calm down and focus on his parents’ reactions.

“Are you alright, Junior?” His dad cocked an eyebrow at him, looking worried and skeptical enough to make Bitty’s stomach sink.

Suzanne was clearly concerned and holding a hand up to cover her mouth. “Oh, sweetie, you seem pale. Maybe we _should_ stay another night. Richard…?” She glanced at Coach.

“No, no. I’m okay. I’m probably catching some sort of cold on top of this mess. Lord knows I can only do so much to keep the Haus hygienic.” He was lying through his teeth, but Bitty hoped they wouldn’t pick up on that.

Luckily, it seemed to work. They didn’t ask him about the cough or his injury for the rest of lunch, and they dropped him off at the Haus in their rental car with little fuss before heading off to the airport. The cough bothered Bitty, though. He had no idea what brought it on or why it hurt so much. Even though their meal lasted another half hour afterwards, there was still a residual burn in his chest. He’d never let himself say it out loud, but that _terrified_ him. What if he was dying?

Bitty shook his head. _That’s ridiculous, Bittle._

Resting his hand on the door of the Haus, Bitty resolved to keep the incident to himself. Worrying Jack and the others wouldn’t do a lick of good even _if_ it meant something. And that was a big if. It probably didn’t. Bitty tried to convince himself of that as he made his way into the kitchen. He would go back to the nurse tomorrow, and he would tell Bitty that he was perfectly fine and cleared for practice that evening.

Jack appeared fifteen minutes later, guided by the familiar smell of a maple crusted apple pie.

“Hey, Bud. Why didn’t you come get me when you got back?”

“Oh, you know how I am when I get the itch to bake something.” Bitty smiled softly. “I’m making your favorite.”

Jack leaned against the kitchen doorway, calmer than Bitty had seen him in a while. “I can tell.”

“I take it the rest of the boys know you’re here now.”

“I ran into Chowder, Dex, and Nursey on their way out about an hour ago. I think they’re going to see that new movie with Emily Blunt.”

Bitty smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Look at you, naming a celebrity.”

“Boyfriends who chirp their loving boyfriend don’t get kisses, you know.”

“Is that so? Well, there’s a certain Canadian hockey player who consistently breaks _that_ rule.”

Jack laughed, and Bitty felt his stomach flutter happily. They chatted in the kitchen while Bitty worked until the entire Haus smelled like cinnamon and maple syrup. Jack relayed Falconers gossip and his thoughts on the next several teams the were facing in the season, and Bitty was happy to let him talk his heart out about hockey. The longer he was distracted, the longer Bitty could avoid talking about lunch with his parents, and the longer Bitty could go without feeling like he was actively lying to Jack about the cough incident.

Bitty pulled the pie from the oven and set it on the counter between himself and Jack. He no longer had to remind Jack to wait for it to cool before cutting a slice, but he still caught the glint of desire in Jack’s eyes as he eyed the pie from where he stood. Bitty closed his eyes and smiled, allowing himself to bask in the pride he felt. When he felt Jack’s hands on his arms, Bitty opened his eyes again. Jack leaned down and kissed Bitty softly.

“You’re an angel, mon chou.”

Bitty laughed. “Compliments will not get you a slice of that pie any faster, Sweat pea.”

“I can’t believe you would think so little of me.” Jack pouted comically, making Bitty laugh again. “But, it was worth a shot.”

Rolling his eyes, Bitty swatted at Jack’s chest with the pot holder he was still holding. “Now, Mr. Zimmermann. A little patience is a good thing.”

“If you say so.” He pecked a kiss to the top of Bitty’s head. “How was lunch with your parents?”

Eric sighed. He was hoping Jack would forget to ask, but Jack was never a very forgetful person. “It was fine. My mother tried to stay another night.”

“She’s worried about you.”

“I know. She also lamented the fact that I have yet to find a girlfriend.”

Jack grimaced. “I’m sorry, Bits.”

Bitty sighed and shook his head. “No, honey, it’s fine. I’ll tell them eventually, but not yet. It’s something I definitely need to work up to.”

Jack nodded and brushed some stray flour off of Bitty’s cheek. Bitty relished in the soft reminder that Jack truly cared about him. He smiled at Jack, filled with genuine warmth, before pulling two mismatched plates out of a nearby cabinet and serving them each a slice of pie.

“How about we take these back up to my room, and we can watch a movie on my laptop or something.”

Jack nodded and reached into the freezer to retrieve the icepack he must have put back in there while Bitty was out. “I still want you to put some ice on that bruise of yours.”

“Oh Lord, fine. Come on, you big lug.”

They ascended the stairs and settled onto Bitty’s bed with their pie in hand and the icepack resting on Bitty’s chest. Bitty occasionally felt a slight tickle in his chest, but the cool press of the icepack seemed to prevent them from growing into full blown coughs. Jack definitely seemed happier that Bitty had seem him in a while, too. Despite the sense that something was wrong floating in the back of his head, Bitty tried to hold on to the feeling that everything would actually turn out alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I LOVE the amount of honest communication zimbits has in canon, I also love toying with the idea that Bitty likes to work things out on his own. He's probably so used to dealing with his own problems based on what we know about his childhood that not speaking up when something (especially something he thinks is minor) is bothering him. It's definitely something they're working on, though, especially when thinking of Jack's anxiety. (and yes, that will be the main focus for a bit soon owo)


	5. Cracked

A coughing fit woke Bitty out of sleep very early Monday morning. The sound jarred Jack enough that he sat straight up with worry painted clearly on his face. He wrapped his arms around Bitty and held him close until the coughing subsided. Bitty didn’t understand. The pain should have definitely ebbed by that point, but if anything it seemed to be getting worse. His chest heaved in desperation for air after the coughing left him breathless.

“I’m okay.” Bitty buried his face into Jack’s chest to avoid making eye contact.

That didn’t work, unfortunately, because Jack immediately pushed Bitty away gently to study his face.

“It doesn’t seem like you are.”

“Well, I am.”

Bitty wrestled himself from Jack’s grip, suddenly furious. He got to his feet and started angrily finding clothes to change into. Jack watched him silently from the tiny bed, and that only served to frustrate Bitty further. Jack was being so good to him through all this mess. He was even skipping practice for his _job_ , and Bitty was lying to him in return. His mouth tasted like ash. He didn’t deserve this attention any more than he deserved the captaincy or the words of praise his father gave him after Saturday’s game. Bitty knew with every fiber of his being that he was just a worthless kid from Georgia in way over his head.

“Okay. No, hang on, bud. I know for a fucking _fact_ that isn’t true.”

Jack wrapped his arms around Bitty’s waist from behind. Bitty didn’t even realize he was talking out loud. _Great_.

“You’ve been more stressed than usual since your game.” Jack continued talking, not giving Bitty a chance to argue. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought it was just because of that check you took, but there’s clearly something else going on. Believe me, I understand that you feel like you have to shoulder this alone, but I’m not going to let you do that. But I need you to feel like you can tell me when things get too much.”

Bitty let himself be turned around. The anger in him faded when Jack touched him, and it left him feeling… empty. Even with the harsh throbbing in his chest, Bitty didn’t think he had enough energy to even cry.

“I’m being ridiculous again.”

Jack smiled softly, though Bitty could still see the worry in his eyes. “Yes. Yes, you are. Do you want to talk about it?”

Bitty shook his head and immediately pressed against Jack. Strong arms surrounded him, and he felt grounded again.

“What time do you have to go meet up with the nurse?”

“Nine-thirty. I had an alarm set so we wouldn’t sleep through it. I guess I should shut it off, though.”

Jack pulled him towards the bed and gingerly forced him back onto it. “Leave it. Try and get some more sleep for now.”

“Lord, I bet I look terrible.”

Fingers lingering on Bitty's shoulder, Jack kissed him softly. “You look perfect, if not a little tired. Rest. I’ll be here if you need me.”

Bitty nodded, and he was asleep again almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He woke up again three hours later, this time to the sound of his phone beeping at him. At some point Jack had changed out of his sleep clothes and rejoined him on his bed, and his lap became Bitty’s pillow. He had an open book in his hand but his attention turned instead on Bitty. 

“Good Morning.”

“Morning, Mr. Zimmermann.” Jack’s last name slurred together a bit in his sleepy state, but Bitty counted it as a win based on the grin spreading across his boyfriend’s face.

Jack retrieved his bookmark from where he tucked it partially under his thigh and marked his place. “Up. You have an appointment to make.”

“Ugh.” Bitty rolled his eyes but complied, blearily going in search of the clothes he nearly put on earlier. “This shouldn’t take too long. Maybe we could get food after?”

“What time is your lecture today?”

Bitty groaned halfway into putting a clean shirt on. “I was hoping you’ve forgotten about that.”

“You need to go to class, Bits. I don’t mind occupying myself for an hour.”

“It’s an hour and a half, and it starts at noon.”

Once Bitty was dressed, Jack pulled him into another hug and kissed the top of his head. Bitty let himself relish the warmth Jack provided and stomped down any lingering negative thoughts. They stood like that for several minutes before Bitty pulled away.

“I’ll go. But only if you take me to Annie’s.”

Jack grinned. “Deal.”

On the drive over to Faber, Bitty fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket absently. He hoped the nurse would take one look at him and pronounce him fit as a fiddle, but realistically he recognized that it probably wouldn’t be that simple. The ache in his chest was still there. The area around the bruise was definitely swollen. A soft tickle in the back of his throat reminded Bitty of his now two coughing fits, one of which he still hadn’t told Jack about. Bitty glanced up from his hands and watched Jack drive. He loved seeing him so focused on whatever task he had before him, but Bitty knew firsthand how overwhelming having his complete attention could be. Not that he really minded when he was in a good mood.

He just… hadn’t been in a good mood the entire weekend.

Jack pulled into the Faber parking lot and shut off the ignition. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

“If you want.” Bitty shrugged, already half out of the car. “You’re less likely to have someone come up and bother you inside.”

“Fair point.”

Bitty opened the staff entrance on the side of the building, and Jack followed him inside, opting to sit outside the locker room to wait. The nurse glanced up when Bitty poked his head into the office.

He beckoned for Bitty to come in and shut the door. “Eric, how are you feeling?”

“Alright. I’ve been resting a lot.”

“Good.” He rummaged through a file cabinet and pulled out a manila folder labeled with Bitty’s name. “I’ve been looking at your file, and I noticed that this is only the second time we’ve had to bring you in for anything. That’s honestly pretty incredible.”

Bitty shrugged awkwardly in response.

“Anyway, I’m going to start with another short physical like we did Saturday. Then I’ll examine that bruise of yours a little more closely and depending on the results of those, go from there.”

“Okay.”

Aside from his chest, Bitty was still in great condition. No spike in heart rate, no late symptoms of a concussion, nothing. He sat back in the examination chair the nurse had in his office, shivering slightly at the chill of both the chair on his bare back and the nurse’s fingers tracing the bruise. He pressed into the edge of the bruise softly, and Bitty clenched his jaw at the sudden wave of pain.

“Scale of one to ten, how much did that hurt?”

There was a part of Bitty that wanted to tell the nurse that it hardly hurt at all to try and convince him that he was perfectly fine, but he knew that despite his Moomaw telling him that the “power of positive thinking and a little something sweet” could cure anything, he may need something more than that to ensure he doesn’t permanently hurt himself. Not to mention, he couldn’t get the image of Jack’s heartbreakingly worried expression out of his head.

“Six.”

“I see.” The nurse pressed gently closer to the center. “Here?”

Bitty squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus more on his breathing rather than the roaring in his ears. “ _Eight_.”

The nurse stepped back, sighing. He made a couple of notes on a sheet from Bitty’s folder before going back to his desk to grab a form from a stack and fill it out. Bitty sat up in the chair, trying to make out what he was writing.

“It’s not just a bruise, is it?” Bitty’s voice sounded small to himself, so he could only imagine how broken it sounded to the nurse.

He looked up and shook his head. “It’s still throbbing and causing you too much pain. I’m writing you a referral for an x-ray and consultation over at the hospital. Best case scenario, it’s nerve damage only, and I’ll only have to pull you from the ice for maybe two weeks tops.”

Bitty’s breath caught in his throat. “And worst case?"

“Fracture. I’d have to keep you benched for the rest of the semester.”

“ _Fuck_.” Bitty buried his face in his hands. Of course this would happen. He finally found something he loved again, something the people around him could be genuinely proud of him for, something he felt he was at least decent at, and he managed to screw it up. It’d been years since he cried as hard. When he finally calmed down, his head was pounding.

“Did you walk or drive here?” The nurse’s voice was soft, and Bitty wanted nothing more to hide.

“I… no, no…. Jack...”

The nurse nodded. “Get him to drive you over to the hospital. I’ll call ahead to give them a heads up, but the sooner you go over there, the sooner we can start treating whatever this is.”

Bitty nodded, too drained to speak. He took the slip from the nurse and headed back to where Jack was waiting. The second Jack saw Bitty with red-tinged eyes and a slip in hand he could put together what the nurse said.

“Oh, bud. I’m so sorry.” He pushed himself to his feet and wrapped his arms around Bitty. “What do you need me to do?”

Bitty wordlessly handed Jack the slip he needed to hand the hospital staff that explained the situation. Jack skimmed it quickly, frowning.

“Okay. Alright, Bits. Let’s get you to the car.”

It was a fracture. Bitty stared blankly at the x-ray the doctor hung up, eyes focusing on a jagged black line running down his sternum. It was small, so they told him, but the fact that it was there was huge. Jack, concerned as ever, rubbed circles into his back while asking all the questions Bitty should ask but couldn’t bring himself too. For definitely not the first time, Bitty thought to himself, _bless this boy_.

They were sitting in Annie’s when Bitty broke the news in the group chat. Seeing the waves of support helped take the sting off of knowing that he would be benched for almost three months. Ollie and Wicks, both usually elusive in the chat, chimed in with assurances that whether he was on the ice or off, Bitty would still be their captain. 

He definitely cried again. Although, he had a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Bitty :'(


	6. Cobbler

Bitty did in fact go to class. His professor droned on about the cultural implications of the diet of the current civilization they were focusing on, but Bitty was only half paying attention. He felt exhausted. The hospital prescribed him a stronger dose of the painkillers that they said would make him tired, but this went further than that. Bitty wanted everything to pause for a few days so his brain had time to catch up. He doodled tart designs in the margins of his notebook to distract himself.

When he got back to the Haus, Dex was in the kitchen making _something_. It smelled good, even if it looked like the cabinets exploded. Bitty passed Jack watching a home improvement show on the couch, greeting him absently with a soft kiss on the top of his head, and stared blankly at the swearing ginger taking up residence in his usual space. Jack followed Bitty with his eyes and shook his head with a knowing smile.

“Why the _fuck_ isn’t this setting properly?”

“Dex?”

Dex whirled around at the sound of Bitty’s voice. His surprised expression quickly melted into something a little more sheepish, and Bitty couldn’t help grinning at seeing the 6’2” hockey player blush like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

“I… I guess I lost track of time.”

Bitty shook his head and walked over to the frog to inspect what he was doing. “ I didn’t mean to interrupt. Did you need any help, honey?”

Dex frowned, and Bitty took a moment to recognize exactly how much of Dex was _covered_ in flour. He had always been an… energetic baker, ever since Bitty started teaching him a couple things. But he looked absolutely flustered standing there—and not in an angry way for once.

“I… Oh whatever. It’s not a surprise anymore.” Dex huffed, turning back to the bowls on the counter. “I figured you were probably upset because of, well, you know, and I thought I’d make you something to try and cheer you up a bit.”

“That’s…actually really sweet.”

“Yeah, well.” He stirred one of the bowls absently. “It doesn’t really matter because I can’t get this syrup to set up properly.”

Bitty nudged him out of the way and peered into the bowl. Nicely chopped peaches sat in a runny liquid. The bowl next to it held a crumbled dough, and Bitty suddenly realized what Dex was making.

“Are you making a peach cobbler?”

Dex was leaning against the sink, still frowning with his arms crossed. “Trying to.”

“I haven’t taught you this yet.”

He pulled his arms tighter and looked away. “I remembered you said it was one of your favorites… I looked it up.”

Bitty dipped a finger into each bowl and tasted what Dex had, and it was surprisingly good. The crumble wasn’t excessively sweet, and the peach flavor was only slight—a good thing since baking it would only intensify it. Dex was a fast learner, and Bitty found himself feeling impressed. He told Dex as much.

“Wait, really?”

Bitty nodded and then turned to rifle through the kitchen shelves. Once he found the box he was looking for, he handed it to Dex.

“That should fix your problem.”

Dex raised an eyebrow at the box in his hand. “Cornstarch?”

“Mhm. It won’t offset the flavor of the peaches, but it’ll thicken up the syrup real nice. Next time if the peaches are this ripe, pop them in the oven for a couple minutes before mixing the syrup and it won’t be this runny.”

“How much should I add?” Dex looked questioningly at Bitty.

He shook his head. “You don’t need me to tell you that. Add a bit at a time until it looks right. You’ve got this.”

Dex hesitated for a moment longer before slowly stirring in some of the cornstarch. Soon the juice thickened up and Dex slid the box back onto the shelf. Moments later the dish was in the oven, and Bitty watched as Dex slowly started cleaning up the disaster of a mess he made.

“Are you and Jack the only ones here?” Bitty sat at the kitchen island, resting his head in his hands.

Dex nodded. “Yeah. Fuck if I know where Ollie and Wicks are, but Chowder and Nursey are sitting in on the Volleyball team’s practice.”

“Was this purposeful, then?”

“What?” Dex paused in scrubbing one of the bowls, glancing back at Bitty. “What do you mean?”

“The timing. You haven’t mentioned to the others that you’ve been learning to bake, have you?”

Bitty could see Dex’s shoulders tense. He sighed and set the bowl in the dishwasher, the motion reminding Bitty how lanky Dex was. He stayed silent as he got the machine started. Eventually he looked up and sighed again.

“Not really? I mean they know I help you out from time to time, but... Look, I’m not ashamed or anything, okay?”

“I never said you were.”

“I just know that this isn’t the kind of thing people expect from me. I’m like this angry Mr. Fix-It, and baking’s not exactly the kind of thing I can take that out on. Not to mention I don’t want to give Nursey any more fuel to antagonize me.”

Bitty frowned. “If anyone gives you shit for doing something you are good at, let me know and I’ll put them on my pie ban list.”

“Thanks, Bitty.”

Bitty got up and stretched his arms over his head. Despite his prescription his chest still felt sore, but stretching his muscles helped ease that slightly. Chatting with Dex helped lighten his mood, and now all he wanted to do was curl up with Jack somewhere other than the cursed couch he still hadn’t been able to burn.

“Let me know when the cobbler is ready, okay?”

Dex smiled softly.

Tugging lightly on Jack’s shirt sleeve, Bitty guided them both upstairs. They flopped back onto Bitty’s bed.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

“Mmmm… maybe. It helps to feel useful.”

Jack traced his fingers along Bitty’s arm. “Should I be jealous?”

“What?”

“You’ve been upset all weekend, and Dex is the one who cheers you up?”

Bitty gaped at him. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you are the most nonsensical mess of a moose. There is absolutely no reason for you to be jealous of _Dex_.”

“Are you sure? He made you _cobbler_ , Bits.” Jack was grinning, which was the only indication that he was joking.

“Oh hush, you. If you’re going to chirp Dex, he should at least be in the room.”

They laid like that for a while, alternating between teasing each other and Bitty reading funny posts from his Twitter feed aloud. Dex popped in with two plates of the cobbler at some point. The final product earned high praises from Bitty, which resulted in more chirps from Jack. They sat together comfortably for several hours before Bitty’s stomach grumbled, reminding him of the passage of time and his need to eat something other than dessert. He was about to suggest they order something in for dinner when Jack spoke.

“Have you called your parents yet?”

Bitty groaned. “No.”

“Bits.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know what to tell them. I really don’t want to disappoint them more than I already have.”

“If they’re disappointed in you for an injury, bud, then they’re shallower people than I thought. Besides, you’ll always have me, and the guys, and also my parents because they love you.”

Bitty smiled sadly. “One day I’ll find the courage to tell them everything.”

“Start with your visit to the hospital, okay? Soon. Before Suzanne worries herself into a frenzy.”

“I’ll do it now.”

Before he could pull up his mother’s contact information, a loud slam echoed through the Haus. There was a shout from Dex, and stomping feet carried a couple people in through the entrance. Holster’s loud voice carried through the halls.

“ _Where is he?_ ”

They heard Ransom arguing with Dex, although Bitty couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

Holster hollered again. “ _Bitty!_ ”

Bitty broke into laughter. “Oh my Lord, what are they doing here?”

“They did adopt you when you were a frog.” Jack shrugged, eyes twinkling.

“Come on, let’s go rescue Dex from those two.”

They tumbled down the stairs and spotted the former D-men in button-ups and slacks standing in the entryway. Despite Bitty’s best attempts at evasion, both Ransom and Holster scooped Bitty up into a hug upon spotting him. He laughed and chirped them for being so worried, but they only ruffled his hair in response. Finally releasing him, they then tackled Jack in greeting as well. Bitty’s phone stayed tucked into his pocket with his intention to call his parents momentarily forgotten.


	7. Hold Your Breath

“Momma?”

Bitty finally got a second alone in his room after Ransom and Holster barged into the Haus and insisted on making him dinner to cheer him up, and he dialed his mother’s number. He’d had an exhausting day already between the truth of his injury and everyone clamoring to wish him well. He hoped this call would be easy. Knowing his mother, that didn’t seem likely. Her insistence on staying with him before either of them even knew the severity of the check proved that. Bitty was banking on, if she did try and fly back up to Samwell, convincing her not to with how financially inadvisable it would be.

“Dicky! There you are. Your Daddy and I have been worried sick about you. Now, tell me what that nurse of yours said.”

“Well…” He paused. It was still too new for the words to come easily. Too similar to when he was almost permanently benched Sophomore year. “I may have misjudged how hard I got hit.”

His mother gasped softly, and he could picture her worried expression in his head. “Oh, Dicky… My poor baby.”

“I had to get an x-ray done to see exactly what was going on, and…” He took a deep breath. “It’s fractured.”

Bitty bit his lip, holding back a sob. He was sure his mother could hear the waver in his voice, but he didn’t want to encourage her to do anything rash. Suzanne was shouting away from the phone, clearly trying to get his father’s attention. Coach said something, to which he could hear a sharp _“Don’t you dare make this about that, Richard.”_ from his mom.

“Momma. Momma!” Bitty tried to draw her back to their conversation.

“Oh! I’m sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes I think your father wakes up in the morning with his head screwed on backwards.”

“It’s okay. And it’s not too bad a fracture, actually.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good. Be sure to take it easy at practice, though, Dicky. When I sent you off to college, I trusted you not to come back to me in pieces.”

“You, uh, don’t have to worry about that, Momma. I’m…not allowed on the ice for a near three months while this heals.”

There’s silence on the other line, and Bitty could feel his shoulders tense. He was telling his parents because they needed to know and hearing how sorry they are helped. But that’s it. He didn’t need or want them involved in his life at Samwell any more than they had to be. For once in his life, Bitty felt safe and able to fully be himself with no consequences, and he couldn’t bear to lose that too because of some beast of a D-man who couldn’t judge his own strength.

“I’m coming up there. My baby needs me.”

“I really don’t, Momma.” The words came out harsher than Bitty intended, and he immediately winced.

Suzanne fell silent again. “Is that nurse sure you didn’t hit your head, too, Dicky? Because if I thought for a moment you were telling me that you don’t _need_ me—“

“That’s not what I meant. You… I…” Bitty screwed his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. “I’m not helpless. I know you and Coach can’t always see that, but—“

“I know exactly how ‘not helpless’ you are, Dicky. I have _eight years_ worth of memories of you coming home crying from school because of those boys who picked on you to show for it. Now let me do my job as your mother and take care of you.”

“You can’t—you can’t use this as a way to somehow make it up to me for letting that go on for so long. I needed your help _then_ , not now.”

Suzanne sighed, letting her voice go soft. “There are a lot of things I wish I did differently in your upbringing, but I thought I taught you better than this.”

The anger that had been festering inside him since his check—since he was thirteen, if he was being honest with himself—bubbled uncontrollably to the surface. Every passive aggressive comment, every disappointed look from Coach, every comment about ‘those gays’, every time his parents brushed off the fact he was being bullied fueled him forward. Hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“Are you actually trying to guilt trip me into letting you fly up here? I’ve done everything I could to make myself into as perfect a son as I could, and clearly that’s still not enough for you.”

“I’m worried about you, Dicky! And with the way you’re talking, I’m only getting more worried. I thought you might’ve been seeing someone based on how happy you’ve been, but now I’m thinking she might not be a good influence on you.”

The _she_ burns in Bitty’s mind. “I wish you and Coach would give that up.”

“Then what has you acting like this? Why are you so insistent that I stay away?”

Later, Bitty would admit to that phone argument being stupid, and that normally he wouldn’t dare do anything that would jeopardize his relationship with his mother. Despite any mistakes she made while he was growing up, he still loved her more than anything. She was his best friend, and Bitty recognized that she wasn’t directly responsible for any of the tribulations he had to face. The latter went for Coach as well. However, an emotional Eric Bittle—especially an _angry_ Eric Bittle—wasn’t the most rational person. An emotional Eric Bittle was the type of person to make two car loads of preserves. An emotional Eric Bittle was the type of person to make enough quiche to overstuff the Haus refrigerator. An emotional Eric Bittle did a lot of stupid things.

“ _I’m gay, Momma._ ”

The second the words were out of Bitty’s mouth he instantly regretted it. That was the honest, albeit indirect, answer to his mother’s questions, but it wasn’t anything Bitty wanted to actually tell her until years later. He half hoped he only thought he said it, or the call had been mysteriously dropped before he got the words out. But, the call was still connected, and the stunned silence on the other side of the call meant he did actually say it.

“What?” Her voice was soft, and the question broke Bitty’s heart.

He ended the call.

Bitty sat on the floor of his room and sobbed. His phone kept lighting up with calls from both of his parents, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer. He felt like the floor opened up beneath him and he was falling hard and fast to some inevitably horrible demise. Bitty lost his parents because he couldn’t keep himself together. Just like he lost hockey and figure skating and everything else.

Jack laughed at Holster’s reenactment of a client he and Ransom had to deal with. The pair were perched on the couch between Dex and Nursey, while he and Chowder watched the chaos unfold from the floor. Movement in his peripherals prompted him too look up.

The second he saw Eric he knew something was wrong. He looked like a ghost. His eyes were unfocused and red, and he held himself like too fast a movement would make him crumble. Jack was off the floor in a flash, fighting between getting to Bittle as fast as he could and not scaring him. The words died on Holster’s tongue when he saw Jack react, and he and the others turned to follow Jack’s gaze. He knew he had limited time before pandemonium broke over Bitty’s state. Quick as he could he urged Bitty into the kitchen and held him close.

“Jack… I fucked up.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything right now. I love you, and I’m here for you.”

Bitty pressed his face into Jack’s chest, too drained to cry again. Jack carded his fingers through Bitty’s hair and hummed softly. They stood like that for a while. Bitty had talked Jack through a handful of panic attacks since they started dating, so helping Bitty through this was the least he could do. He wanted—needed—to know what happened, but Jack more than anyone understood that these things couldn’t be forced out of a person. He just hoped that Bitty thought of him as safe enough to do so.

Eventually, Jack eased Bitty upstairs to his room again and urged him to lay down. Bitty’s phone was discarded face down on the floor nearby. Usually Bitty always kept his phone with him, but Jack decided to ignore the change for the moment. He wished he didn’t have to leave the next morning. Jack kneeled beside the bed.

“Jack.”

“Yes?”

“I told them.”

Jack frowned. “Your parents? About your injury? That’s why you called them.”

“Not…” Bitty pressed his face into his pillow. “About me.”

Suddenly everything made sense to Jack. “Oh, Bits… I’m so sorry. What do you need me to do?”

“Could you kiss me?” Bitty lifted his head watched Jack with sad eyes.

Jack did so immediately. He kept it soft and chaste but hoping it conveyed exactly how much he cared for the boy.

Bitty sighed softly when Jack pulled away. “Thanks… I needed to be reminded that I wasn’t making all this up.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Bitty pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I’ll be okay. I knew this would happen eventually. I just didn’t mean for it to be now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Bitty shook his head. “Maybe when I call you tomorrow night.”

“Okay. You should sleep.”

“Yeah.”

Jack watched as Bitty shut his eyes and his breathing steadied. He snuck out of the room and headed downstairs to assure the others that everything was mostly alright. He also figured he warn at least the frogs that Bitty would be distant for a little while and not to press him on it. They seemed to accept that with worried glances between them, but their compliance put Jack a little more at ease about the whole situation. He sincerely hoped the Bittles would come around. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering what Coach said to Suzanne to make her snap at him: "Hopefully this won't make him quit hockey like he does with everything else."


	8. Exhale

Jack stayed as long as he could the next morning. Despite his breakdown the night before, Bitty seemed cheery enough as they said goodbye, although his eyes were still sad. But, they both knew that this was part of the deal when they started dating. Jack had responsibilities that came along with hockey, and he couldn’t spend every minute at Bitty’s side no matter how much he would love to do just that. He gave Bitty one last wave before starting his drive back to Providence. 

Eventually, Bitty’s parents seemed to realize he wasn’t going to answer their calls and they stopped trying to get in touch with him. He sat in on practices, bundled in his blue jacket on the bench and calling out critiques, but the entire team noticed that he wasn’t as excitable as he used to be. They didn’t press him, though. Samwell made it through their two games that weekend with Whiskey filling for Bitty on the first line. They managed to scrape out a double win, but the dynamic was clearly off. Bitty bit back insults when he heard the commentators speculate on how their performance would suffer with their captain benched “indefinitely.”

Samwell kept scoring, though. Bitty stayed on the bench, and his team progressed without him. He couldn’t pretend that didn’t hurt worse than his throbbing chest.

On the bright side, the Haus residents had never been fed so well.

“Hey… Bitty?”

He looked up from the casserole he was prepping for baking to see Chowder hovering nervously in the doorway.

Bitty looked away and continued what he was doing. “What?”

“Don’t you think… uh, not that we aren’t _totally_ grateful for everything you do… I mean we love you _and_ your cooking and stuff, so like, uh.”

“Bro, you need to take a break with the food prep.” Ollie popped up behind Chowder, fearlessly wandering into the kitchen.

He flung open the refrigerator to emphasize that every shelf was filled. He did the same with the freezer, and it was in the same situation. Bitty paused in mild shock. He knew he’d been baking a lot, but he didn’t realize quite how much.

“You’re baking faster than we can eat, which is honestly pretty incredible.” Chowder piped up. “Maybe you should try something else to keep yourself occupied?”

He logically knew they were right. His stress baking was only amplified with everything going on, and the fact that he wasn’t able to expel any excess energy exercising on or off the ice wasn’t helping either. Skating and baking were the only things he knew how to do, though. And if he couldn’t do either…

“I guess I did get a little carried away, huh?” Bitty flashed them a wry grin. “I’ll finish this one up and then take a break for a few days. Lord knows there are other things I should probably be doing anyway. Honestly, sometimes I just let myself get so carried away that I just keep on trucking without a care in the world. That’s why I’m so glad I’ve got you boys looking out for me so I don’t go too overboard on these things.”

He was rambling. Bitty recognized this, but Ollie and Chowder seemed satisfied by this and let him be. After slipping the casserole into the oven, Bitty leaned over the sink and just let himself breathe for a moment.

“What am I even doing here?”

His only answer was the soft hum of the oven.

Three weeks into Bitty’s recovery marked the longest he’d ever gone without talking to his mother. He realized this when he was sitting on the bench at practice, and he instinctively wanted to send a recipe he found on Pinterest to her. Then he remembered. Bitty pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself not to start crying. He was finally getting used to this new routine, and he didn’t want to give the team any further reason to doubt him. When he finally calmed himself and looked up again, he caught Coach Murray watching him with a funny expression.

“Watch out!”

Dex’s voice carried over the ice, and Bitty ducked just in time to avoid a hockey puck to the forehead. The _thunk_ of the puck hitting the back wall echoed through Faber. Bitty eased himself up slowly, eyes wide. The team was frozen on the ice and staring in horror at him. Bitty shook his head.

“Watch it! I get that y’all miss me, but keep the game on the ice, _please_.”

There was a hoot of laughter from someone, and soon the entire team broke down into laughter. Coach Hall double checked that Bitty was actually alright before hopping onto the ice to force the team to get back to work. Practice quickly derailed into overly enthusiastic chirps afterwards, and the coaches ended up letting them leave a half hour early since they couldn’t get them to refocus.

As Bitty left, he passed Coach Murray on the phone with someone. It sounded like it was his wife based on the ‘darling’s he kept dropping. He didn’t try to eavesdrop, but the urgent nature of the call definitely made him curious. Bitty suddenly remembered that Penny was pregnant, and he hoped everything was okay. He think he remembered Murray telling them that she would be due in February, which meant Bitty would have a chance to meet the kid before he graduated. That thought warmed him up a bit. If all else failed, Bitty did love kids.

Bitty made it back to the Haus first. He relished in the comfortable silence an empty Haus offered before the other five residents tumbled through the front door. Ollie and Wicks were laughing at something, drawing Bitty’s attention. He followed the sound to the living room, where Chowder had a hand each around Nursey’s and Dex’s mouths.

“Listen, I love you guys, but I _swear to god_ if you don’t stop arguing for three seconds I will actually get Cait to murder you both with a volleyball.”

Dex pulled back and frowned. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going upstairs.”

“That’d be pretty cool if she could actually pull that off.” Nursey mused.

Chowder rolled his eyes and followed Dex upstairs. Bitty raised an eyebrow at Dex, and he threw his arms up in exasperation.

“I don’t know _what_ you want to know, but I’m telling you now that I have no idea.”

Bitty chuckled. “If you need a distraction, the dishwasher’s been doing that thing where it doesn’t wash away all the soap bubbles again.”

“Thank god.” Dex powered down to the basement to go grab his tools. Bitty wandered into the kitchen and hoisted himself up onto the countertop. The past several weeks had been undeniably rough, but slowly he’d been adjusting. He hated that he couldn’t bring himself to talk to his parents. Despite everything he wanted to believe was their fault, there was still a part of him that needed them in his life. He missed the gossip from his mother and Coach’s gruff commentary on the current football standings. He missed telling them about his classes and practice and everything he felt he could. The truth of it, though, was that he couldn’t tell them about the one thing that made everything he went through worth it. Jack. Bitty knew if he was forced to choose, he’d pick Jack over his parents any day. He just hoped Jack stuck with him long enough for that choice to be worth it.

Dex blustered back upstairs and into the kitchen, and Bitty silently watched him work. Occasionally he’d pass Dex a socket wrench or a screwdriver from his toolbox. When Dex first joined the hockey team, Bitty wasn’t sure if they would ever truly get along. But, he’d grown. He’d accepted Bitty as he was and now regularly came to him for advice. Bitty was the first to admit that they didn’t have the most conventional relationship, but Dex had grown over the past couple years.

He just hoped his parents would do the same.


	9. Given the Chance (Take it and Run)

Halfway through practice the next day, Coach Murray took a seat next to Bitty on the bench. Hall was having the team run suicides as punishment for disrupting practice the night before, and for once Bitty was glad to be forced to sit out. Murray kept glancing at him, but Bitty ignored him in favor of the messages from Jack coming through on his phone.

> **Jack** : Is it bad that I’m glad you have all this free time now?
> 
> **Jack** : There are four hours more every day that I can talk to you now.
> 
> **Jack** : That’s bad isn’t it.
> 
> **Eric** : Jaaaaack ^3^
> 
> **Eric** : That’s the sweetest darn thing I’ve ever heard.
> 
> **Jack** : Oh, good. I was worried that was a little much.
> 
> **Eric** : Aren’t you supposed to be at conditioning right now?
> 
> **Jack** : Possibly.
> 
> **Eric** : Jack, your nutritionist already hates me. I don’t need your coaches to hate me too! Go work out. >:( 
> 
> **Jack** : But I miss you.

Bitty grinned and bit his lip.

> **Eric** : I miss you too, honey. But I’ll see you this weekend, right?
> 
> **Jack** : Absolutely.

With that, Bitty pocketed his phone, determined to focus back on practice. The boys had shifted into passing practice, with Ollie, Wicks, and Chowder working on shots and saves. Bitty itched to be out there with him, even just standing off to the sides on his skates and staying out of the way. But he knew the rules. He wasn’t allowed back on the ice until the team nurse gave him the green light, and that wasn’t going to be for another month at the earliest. He shook his head. Thinking about it like that wasn’t going to speed time up any faster. Occasionally he called out praises when a particular exercise, but he had trouble putting his heart into it.

Coach Murray was still looking at him expectantly.

“Eric.” He eventually spoke up.

Bitty looked over at him, antsy about what it was that made him stare at him for so long.

“I can tell you miss being on the ice.”

“More than anything.” Bitty let out a shaky breath as he watched Tango gracefully steal the puck away from Nursey. “But I can be patient.”

“And if the nurse cleared you for practice today?”

Bitty felt like his heart stopped. Getting back on the ice would mean everything to him, but he knew the question was hypothetical. There’s no way his fracture was healed yet, and there was even less of a chance they’d let him play again before that was true.

“I’d throw myself over that barrier faster than I could get my skates on.”

Murray nodded. “You, uh, used to babysit too, right?”

“Well… yes.” Bitty frowned, completely unsure as to where the conversation was headed. “That was in high school during the school year. I still teach at a recreational camp during the summers, though. I miss my campers sometimes, but I love Samwell more.”

“I’d like to talk to you in my office about something after practice, Eric. Alright?” Murray got up from where he’d been sitting and made his way to finally join Hall on the ice.

“O-okay.”

The rest of practice passed in a blur. Bitty kept his eyes on the team, but he didn’t have much to say. They moved like a well-oiled machine, despite any clumsiness or miscalculations. But then again, practice was always easy for Samwell. They got along really well. Even Whiskey, who spent the first couple months barely speaking to the team outside of Faber, had grown to accept them.

Bitty nearly forgot to go meet Murray in his office until he caught his eye on his way to the locker room. He paused outside the doorway that lead to the offices, simultaneously feeling a sense of déjà vu and anxious anticipation.

“Uh, sir? You wanted to see me?”

Murray was adding edits to his notebook of plays at his desk when Bitty finally walked in. He glanced up and set the book aside.

“I had a bit of a favor to ask of you.”

Before he could continue, Ford hustled in. “Sorry I’m late, Coach. It’s a lot of work herding these boys.”

Bitty glanced between them, even more confused as to what was happening.

“Oh, good. I’m glad you could make it. I’m hoping your involvement will help convince Bittle to help us out.”

“I personally think he’d be perfect for it. I’ve done quite a bit of research.”

Holding out his hands, Bitty interrupted. “Pardon, what am I doing?”

“Do you remember meeting my wife, Penny, Bittle?”

“Of course! She really liked those blueberry muffins I made with the cinnamon sugar on top.”

“Well, she’s been coaching the juvenile ice skating class for the past several years, and they’re currently preparing for their winter holiday showcase. They’re all very excited about it. Ford here has been assisting in the choreography for it, actually. As I’m sure you’re aware, she and I are having a child in the next few months. That.. complicates things a little bit.”

Murray clasped his hands and rested his arms on the desk. Bitty knew all of this already. Her experience as an ice skating instructor had only cemented the fact that they would get along. What he didn’t understand was where the conversation was going.

“That’s where you come in, Bitty.” Ford grinned at him, but it faltered at the sight of his confused expression. “At least, we hope.”

“Essentially, Penny’s in a similar circumstance as you are. The doctors have said she has to stay off the ice from now until the baby’s born, but that means she can’t coach the ice skaters for the showcase.”

Suddenly, it dawned on Bitty what they were asking him to do. “But, I’m still not cleared to get on the ice. Not for another couple of months, anyway.”

“Not for hockey, no. But…I think you can get a pass for _this_ from the nurse, as long as you promise to take it easy. Figure skating’s still a sport, but it won’t put the same pressure on your chest like hockey would.”

It was as if fate was leaning down and pulling Bitty from the pit he’d burrowed himself into. He’d never considered coaching before, but now that it was suggested to him, he couldn’t understand why. Everything about it was perfect. He knew in his heart that his figure skating career was over the minute he made the switch to hockey, but this was definitely a way to keep it in his life. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it, no matter how much he loved hockey.

“What do I have to do?”

“I’m going to have the nurse give you another physical to check on your overall condition. As much help as this would be, I don’t want to risk injuring you further. Assuming that you get cleared, Ford will sit in on practice with you to make sure you don’t over do it.”

“Okay, I can do that, sir.” Bitty felt like he was _vibrating_.

The nurse sang praises about how well Bitty was healing up and cleared him for the ice time, as long as he kept any stress to a minimum. Bitty promised he would be careful and nearly ran out of the locker room. He hadn’t felt that light in what felt like ages, and knowing he was finally going to be doing something useful again had him grinning until his cheeks hurt. He couldn’t _wait_ to surprise Jack with the news.

A call from his dad lit up his phone, but even rejecting it couldn’t break his streak of happiness. Bitty felt like he was walking on clouds. Soon he’d be gliding across the ice again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of Bitty coaching okay


	10. Lean on Me, Lean on You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long update!!

The Falconers had two away games back to back that weekend. They managed to barely win the first one in overtime against the Islanders, but lost the second to the Bruins by two points. When Jack showed up on the front steps of the Haus to collect Bitty late Friday night, Bitty could see the defeat in his eyes. The rest of the Haus residents congratulated Jack on his win and expressed their sympathies for the loss while Bitty rushed through finishing packing for the weekend. Bitty urged them both out the door as quickly as he could the second he was ready. He recognized that look in Jack’s eyes, and luckily by now he knew how to ease it away.

He waited until they were safely back at Jack’s apartment and laying next to each other on his bed before breaching the subject.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart.”

Jack sighed and clenched his fists into his hair. “I made so many _mistakes_. My aim was off, and I kept misreading plays. I could have scored twice more in both games if I had been better.”

“Do you know how to fix that?” Bitty kept his voice calm. When Jack thought himself into an anxiety spiral, he needed solutions to get him out, not just praise.

“More shot drills. Increased focus on teamwork. Clearer instructions on individual plays.”

Bitty ran his fingers up and down Jack’s arm to ground him in the present. “That sounds doable.”

He grunted in response.

“I was watching your games.” Bitty continued. “You made several really beautiful passes during that Islander games, especially in the second period. And you got an assist on y’all’s goal against the Bruins. You did a great job, despite the mistakes you noticed.”

"I could have been better, though. I could have done more. I have to be better."

"If you  _had_  done any more, you would have burnt yourself out on that ice and probably gotten yourself hurt. I'm going to make it a rule right now that only one of us is allowed to be hurt at one time. Lord knows that would only be disastrous with both of us trying to take care of each other. Besides, there's no point in dwelling on the past unless you're aiming to learn from it. You've already told me what you've learned from those games, so there's no point in getting yourself worked up. They happened how they happened, and you've another game tomorrow you've got to focus on now. This time you'll be able to watch me watching you and see how proud I am in the moment."

He grunted.

Even so, Bitty smiled. He could see the tension in Jack’s shoulders start to relax. “You did your best at the time, and for that I’m so proud of you. You’ll do better next time, and I’ll still be proud.”

Jack rolled over onto his side and pulled Bitty into a hug. “Thanks, Bits.”

“Anytime, honey. Let’s get some sleep, okay? You’re probably going to wake me up early again, aren't you?”

Jack grinned and gave Bitty a soft but lasting kiss. They settled in, limbs still tangled together, and quickly fell asleep. Bitty realized as he was falling asleep that he still hadn’t told Jack about his coaching job.

* * *

 

He did not, in fact, wake Bitty up the next morning. Bitty opened his eyes to a dozing Jack Zimmermann a little before ten and was reminded again of how much he loved him. Bitty waited until Jack sleepily blinked open his eyes before sitting up, and he immediately kissed him afterwards. Jack grinned and sat up.

“I could get used to waking up like this.”

Bitty stretched his arms over his head. “One day, if you want.”

“Mmmm… Are you sure you can’t stay forever starting now?”

“Jack… You’re the one who always reminds me how important my education is.”

He pecked kisses up Bitty’s neck and across his cheeks. “I’m aware, and I am counting down the days until I can keep you here indefinitely.”

Bitty blushed and pushed back at Jack’s face playfully. “You aren’t allowed to be this completely sweet until I get some coffee in me, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“Fine, fine.”

They soon found themselves curled side by side on Jack’s couch, each with a steaming cup in hand.

“You have a home game tonight at seven, right?” Bitty took a sip from his cup and savored the sweetness of the pumpkin spice coffee creamer Jack kept stocked specifically for him.

Jack nodded. “I have your ticket in my bag. The usual spot.”

“I’ve missed seeing y’all play. It feels like y’all’ve been on the road for ages.”

“I’ve missed seeing you in the crowd.”

“You don’t still think that having me around makes—“

A call came through on Bitty’s phone midsentence, and upon seeing his dad’s contact info flash across the screen, he quickly declined it. Jack frowned softly and ran a hand through Bitty’s hair.

“You can accept the call, bud. I don’t mind if your parents want to talk to you.”

Bitty glanced away and bit his lip. Jack used the hand in Bitty’s hair to try and turn his face back to him, but Bitty pulled away and shook his head once.

“Hey… What’s on your mind?” Suddenly, it clicked into place. “You haven’t actually talked to them since it happened, have you?”

“I know what they’re going to say.”

“Do you though? They’re your parents, Bittle. They wouldn’t—“

“They _would_ , Jack.” Bitty turned to him, eyes blazing. “Lord, I _know_ how they feel about these things. Why do you think it took me so long to even hint at it? Me ignoring their calls is just saving me the hurt of having to hear them disown me or whatever in person. This makes me twice the disappointment I already am to them, and I don’t know if I could handle hearing that in their voices.”

Jack sighed. He wanted to assure Bittle that he was wrong, that his parents still loved him and only wanted him to be happy, but he knew that may not be the case. He was lucky with how accepting his parents were—with everything, really, not just his sexuality—but it killed him to see how it was killing Bitty to not talk to his parents for so long. He’d always been incredibly family oriented, and seeing him like this was like seeing him missing an arm.

“You miss them.”

Bitty understood that it wasn’t a question. “I do.”

“Call them.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’ll lose them if I do that.”

Jack took a deep breath and pulled Bitty in for a side hug. “Do you remember when I told you about what I went through before I went to Samwell?”

Bitty hesitated but nodded.

“Well, one of the things I learned from the therapists at… at the rehabilitation center, was that you can’t move forward if you’re still hanging onto the past. I had to accept that I screwed up and lost nearly everything before I could build myself a life again. I had to learn to let go. That’s definitely something I still struggle with, but I’m trying to not let my past define me any longer, and that’s what counts.”

“You’re doing such a wonderful job, too, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, bud.” Jack pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Bitty’s head. “But there is something I never mentioned to you. Do you remember that night Kenny showed up at a Haus kegster?”

Bitty nodded. He didn’t think he’d be able to forget that night for a long while.

“Well, the next morning I called him. I still had his number in my phone, after all those years, and I hadn’t used it since before the incident. But I called him, and I talked to him. I told him about how I couldn’t handle being around him and about how I was tired of feeling like crap every time I saw his face. I told him that I wanted closure to our whole debacle, and he was surprisingly understanding. He promised to give me space, and I promised that when I felt up to it, I’d try and become friends with him again.”

Jack’s story had a point, and Bitty sighed. He knew he couldn’t hide from his parents forever, but it was so easy to assume the worst.

“You need to call them. Bad reaction or no, you need closure for this to let yourself heal. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay. I’ll call them.”

Jack took Bitty’s hand and squeezed it gently. “And remember, if the worst does happen, my parents would adopt you in a heartbeat.”

That made Bitty laugh. He fumbled with his phone for a minute before letting his finger hover over his list of recent calls. Aside from the occasional ones from Jack or the team, they were all rejected calls from his dad from the past two weeks.

One more squeeze from Jack’s hand was all Bitty needed to call his dad.

He picked up on the first ring. “Junior?”

“Uh.” Bitty swallowed a lump in his throat. “Hey, Coach.”

“How are you doing?” His voice wavered, and Bitty felt guilt rise in his gut.

“I’m doing good… Recovering still, but the nurse says I’m healing up well.”

“That’s good.” Coach cleared his throat. “It’s been a while since we’ve heard from you.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been… uh…” The word ‘ _busy’_ died in his throat, unable to force himself lie to his dad anymore.

“No, no. I understand. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“I figured.”

“Now, you know your mother and I do our best to let you find your own way. We may not have always succeeded at that, but we try.”

Bitty squashed the flicker of hope fluttering in his gut. His dad’s words sounded promising, but he knew his parents.

“Junior, I’ve had an inkling… that you were, uh, _that way_ for a few years now, but I tried to ignore it. I didn’t want to make the same assumptions the boys who caused you trouble made. But, now that you’ve said it… I guess there’s no hiding it, is there?”

“You can say the word ‘gay,’ Coach.”

“I’d rather not.”

Bitty’s heart dropped. Jack frowned, only barely hearing the other side of the conversation, and started rubbing circles into Bitty’s back.

“You’re always going to be our son, Junior. You know that. And I reckon you’re pretty serious about this if you’re willing to come forward about it. I can’t say I’m going to go out and buy a rainbow flag or nothing, but I’m not going to lose my boy either.” 

“I, uh, didn’t really expect y’all to do all that.”

“Now, your mother may need a bit more time to process this, alright? She misses talking to you something fierce, but she’s feeling like she lost something with this news. I was hoping you’d call her too, but not talk about this yet. She’ll recover eventually.”

“I’m not going back into the closet, Coach. I want to be able to talk to y’all about this. I… I want to tell y’all all about...about my boyfriend.”

Coach sighed into the phone, but the breathiness of it made Bitty realize he was probably shaking his head. “Your mother knew you were seeing somebody.”

“She’s always been good at reading people.” Bitty let a shy smile sneak its way onto his face.

“Let’s talk about all that later, though. This has already been a lot without adding a… uh… boy on top of it.”

“Is Momma there? Can I talk to her right now?”

“She’s off helping with a bake sale at the church today. I’ll let her know I talked to you though, and try and get her to call you when she gets home. I’ve got to say, she’s been gossiping with me about all the ladies from church, but I can’t follow it near as well as you seem to be able to. I’ll be glad to be relieved of that once you two start talking again.”

Bitty nodded, but quickly realized that Coach wouldn’t be able to tell over the phone. “I’ve missed hearing it from her. Makes me feel like I’m still in the loop all the way up here.”

“Well, I’m going to let you go. I’m glad you’re doing alright.”

“Thanks, Coach. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Junior. Bye.”

Bitty ended the call and buried his face into Jack’s chest. It felt like a huge weight had moved off his shoulders, even though his heart hurt a bit. Jack shifted them so Bitty was in his lap and held the smaller boy close.

“Well, that wasn’t completely terrible.”

Jack hummed softly. “Do you feel better?”

“Yes. And don’t chirp me about it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“They don’t want me to be open about it, Jack.”

Carding a hand through Bitty’s hair, Jack pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. “But they want you in their life regardless, Bits. They might just need a little time to get used to it. It’s not new to you, but it is for them. Didn’t you tell me that it took you five years just to say that you were gay out loud?”

“You have a point.” Bitty sniffled softly, running a sleeve across his damp eyes. “They don’t hate me.”

“Hating you is impossible, mon chou.”

“You’re biased.”

“Maybe.”

Bitty snuggled into Jack’s arms, and they sat curled into each other until the sun rose high overhead. Jack eventually convinced Bitty to move off of the couch and get started on some lunch. They worked side by side prepping food in the kitchen, and the blissful domesticity of it helped Bitty relax fully. He let himself believe, at least for a little while, that everything would be alright.


	11. Oh Momma

An hour before Jack had to leave for the Falconers’ home rink, Bitty looked up abruptly from the PB&J he was preparing. Jack glanced over at him from where he was packaging up the finished sandwiches and raised an eyebrow in a silent inquiry.

“I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

“Hm?”

Bitty placed the knife on the counter and grinned like he was about to burst from excitement. “They’re letting back on the ice!”

“Already?” The concern was evident in Jack’s voice. He wanted to be happy for Bitty, but there was no way he was healed enough to start practice yet.

Bitty shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not allowed to even _touch_ a hockey stick yet. Remember how Coach Murray’s wife does those ice skating lessons for the kids who live near Samwell?”

“Oh, yeah. Sometimes they’d still be out on the ice if we showed up to practice early enough.”

“Well, she’s due in February, and the doctor said she’s not allowed out on the ice from here on out. So…guess who they gave permission to take over for her for a little bit?”

Jack had never seen Bitty this excited ever. And that was saying something. He couldn’t resist smirking and teasing him, though. “Probably Chowder, right?”

“Ugh!” Bitty punched him in the arm. “No, it’s me, you big goof! I get to be out on the ice teaching little kids all about toe loops and sit spins and _oh_ I can’t wait until practice on Monday.”

Jack pulled him into a hug. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay Bits?”

“I will.” He snaked his arms around Jack’s middle. “Nothing I show them should be very strenuous for me, and anyway Ford is going to sit in on the practices to make sure I don’t overdo it any.”

“Good. I’m really happy for you.”

“It means the world to hear you say that, sweetpea.”

Bitty pulled away and started back on the sandwiches for the Falconers. “I never really thought about coaching before Murray brought it up to me.”

“Neither did I.” Bitty blinked at him but quickly remembered that Jack coached peewee hockey before going to Samwell. “It took my Dad suggesting it before it was even on my radar. Those kids helped me remember why I fell in love with hockey to begin with. I let myself resent it during Juniors, and thought I lost it afterwards. Clearly I was mistaken.”

“I couldn’t imagine you ever giving up hockey.”

Jack shook his head. He wasn’t smiling, but Bitty could tell that the conversation wasn’t stressing him out at all. “I was a different person then. You saw a bit of that Jack your freshman year, and, well, you remember how that went.”

“I definitely hated you. Kinda.” Bitty nudged Jack with his elbow.

“I, uh… I don’t blame you. I was sort of a dick, eh?”

Bitty laughed and nudged Jack again. “Oh, Lord, yes. But then you got so sweet and charmed the pants off of me.”

“Literally.”

“ _Jack Laurent Zimmermann_.”

Jack laughed and held up an arm to protect himself from a series of soft smacks from Bitty. They eventually were able to finish making and packaging all the sandwiches for that night’s game, but not without teasing chirps.

Double checking that the sandwich container was in fact snapped shut, Bitty set his jaw determinedly. “I’m going to call my mother.”

“Now?”

“Yes.” Bitty sighed. “She’ll know I’ve talked to Coach by now, which means she’s just waiting for me to ring her up. This is probably the first time I’ve ever called him about something first.”

Jack hummed and pressed a reassuring kiss to Bitty’s temple. “Can’t it wait until after the game?”

“If I do it now, I have a for-sure exit strategy in case it goes south. I’ll just tell her I’ve got to go because the game’ll start.”

“Okay. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Thanks, sweet pea.”

Bitty settled himself onto Jack’s couch and pulled up his mother’s contact information. Usually either Jack’s or her name was at the top of his recent call list, but things were different. They may be alright, but he’d be a fool to not recognize the shift in dynamic between himself and his parents. He took a deep breath and pressed ‘call’.

“Dicky?”

“Hey, Momma. Uh, how are you?”

“Well now, I should be asking you that! What kind of son goes off and ignores his mother for weeks on end? Especially in your condition. I’ve been worried _sick_.”

Bitty winced. “I’m sorry, Momma.”

“Well, good. And to answer your question, things are going just fine here. I’ve been trying to teach Betty Nelson the differences between pastry dough and pie crust, and honestly I’m just about to lose faith in the woman.”

She was ignoring it. Just like Coach said she would. Bitty couldn’t decide if he was relived or annoyed at that. One of the main reasons he wanted to come out to his mother was so he could talk to her about Jack. Honestly—not pretending the two of them were just best friends. Bitty let her ramble on for a while before cutting in.

“—after all, things have to be done _right_ if you want them to do what you want them to.”

“I suppose… Momma, I have some news, actually.”

Suzanne paused. “…Dicky, I don’t—“

“No, no. It’s news you’ll like. I’m excited.”

“Alright, well, let’s hear it.” Her voice was tense anyway.

Bitty urged himself to relax, thinking of the cool air in Faber. “I got permission to get out on the ice again. But not for hockey yet, don’t worry.”

“You always did love it out there, didn’t you? Is this just as a free skate?”

“Nope.” He couldn’t help the grin spreading across his cheeks. “I’m filling in for a juvenile ice skating coach while she’s on maternity.”

“Oh, Dicky, that’s wonderful. Are you still able to do that, though? I know it’s been years since you competed.”

Bitty made eye contact with Jack from across the room. He smiled supportively.

“I’ve never really stopped practicing jumps and spins. Just for fun. It has been a while since I’ve done them seriously, but I’m also working with children, so I’m not worried in the slightest.”

Something clattered on the side of the line, and Bitty pictured his mom fixing dinner in the kitchen at home. “Well, that’s certainly exciting. Sounds like you’ve got everything you want in one favor.”

“Maybe if the showcase was about baking, too, Momma.”

“Now, don’t even try and tell me you won’t bring those kids a couple of batches of cookies on your first day coaching.”

“I was thinking sugar cookies, with Moomaw’s chocolate frosting recipe.”

“Mmhmm.” She cleared her throat. “I know you better than you think, Dicky.”

Bitty looked down at his legs hanging off the edge of the couch. He didn’t doubt that his mother was probably right. Bitty wasn’t stupid, regardless of how some of his classes made him feel. He saw the glances his mother threw at him when he lingered talking to a boy for a little longer than usual. He knew deep down in his heart that some part of her suspected, but that only made the entire situation leave a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn’t understand—despite everything their culture taught them about gay people—why they couldn’t just _be happy for him_.

“Do you?”

Suzanne sighed. “You aren’t going to make this easy on us, are you?”

“I hate lying to you, Momma. I always have. Don’t ask me to do this anymore. I want to feel like I can tell you… to tell y’all anything. Believe me, none of this is easy for me either.”

“Call me tomorrow, and we’ll see how things go. I need a bit more time to adjust.”

“Okay.” It was a start, and Bitty accepted the tiny foothold it gave him. “Are y’all going to watch the Falconers game?”

“Of course. Are you watching it at that frat house of yours with the other boys?”

He couldn’t wait to tell her about Jack. “No, I’m… I’m actually visiting Jack right now, so I’ll be _at_ the game.”

“Again? Make sure you don’t let that boy get sick of you, Dicky.”

“That’s not going to happen, Momma.”

“You see that it doesn't.” Coach shouted something in the background, and Suzanne told him to give her a minute. “Honestly, what would your father do without me? Maybe if the camera pans over the crowd we’ll see you on TV.”

“If I see it happening, I’ll send y’all a wave.”

“Well, I better go see what your father wants. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Dicky.”

“Bye, Momma.” He paused for half a beat and added, “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

With that the line went dead, and Bitty felt like his heart was going to burst. He got up and hugged Jack, the promise of tomorrow hovering on his tongue. Lord, how he hoped everything would turn out alright. Soon enough, Jack and Bitty rushed to finish getting ready before heading over to the Falconers’ home arena. Jack dropped Bitty off by the family entrance before planting a hard kiss on his lips and ducking out and into the locker room. With an hour to kill before it would even make sense for him to go find his seat, Bitty settled into one of the chairs in the waiting area for friends and family of the players and scrolled through his Twitter feed.


	12. The Precipice

Falconers games without Bitty’s former-Samwell-hockey friends were always a little lonely. He sat more or less alone up by the dividers and kept his eyes on Jack throughout the periods. Gabby and the other wives and girlfriends of the Falconers usually gave him a little wave when they arrive, but they all understood that Bitty couldn’t actually sit with them to avoid suspicion from the media. Although, Bitty enjoyed watching hockey almost as much as he loved playing it, so he didn’t mind pouring all his focus onto the ice in front of him. 

The Falconers won the first faceoff against the Capitals with Jack at the head. Bitty’s eyes trailed after the puck as it bounced between the Falconers’ players until it was snatched away by one of the Capitals. He aimed for the Falconers’ net, but the puck dinged off the goal post and back into the hands of the Falconers. After several minutes of heavy checking and near-penalties, they go scoreless into the second period. The Capitals were _fighting_ for a win.

The Capitals scored early on into the second period after managing to monopolize the puck up to that point. It slipped into the net just over the goalie’s shoulder, and the crowd let out a groan as the buzzer sounded. Bitty’s eyes instantly scanned for Jack. He was rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes shut, but he quickly took a deep breath and shifted back into his focus zone. Bitty couldn’t help the spark of pride he felt. Jack had come so far in his acceptance of things he couldn’t control, and Bitty let himself preen a bit when he saw Jack using a coping mechanism _he_ taught him.

The Falconer’s won the next face off and held an iron grip on control of the puck. They managed to score twice after the Capitals’ goal, bringing them into the lead. As Jack scored the second one, he looked up and made eye contact with Bitty and smiled, as if to say ‘ _did you see that, Bits?_ ’ Bitty nodded, grinning. Jack skated away, and Bitty thought about how stupidly in love with that boy he was.

Jack was well on his way to making his second goal of the game, the Falconers’ third, when one of the Capitals’ defensemen careened into him and smashed him into the divider opposite the section in front of Bitty. The D-man got two minutes for elbowing, even though Jack barely looked fazed. Before he recognized it, Bitty felt a bubbling of hot jealousy boiling over in his gut. It wasn’t _fair_ that Bitty got seriously injured and lost game time for months over something Jack could just _walk off_. It wasn’t that Bitty wanted Jack to get hurt—he wanted the opposite, actually: for Jack to _never_ get hurt—but it didn’t change how unfair the whole situation seemed to Bitty.

And Bitty could chalk it all up to how small he was. He was average-sized, and he still seemed too small when it mattered. Bitty was small and fair and feminine and _weak_ —oh god he was spiraling.

Bitty bit his knuckle to try and ground himself, reminding himself that he was being ridiculous. He borrowed one of Jack’s coping mechanisms and counted backwards from ten until he felt less like he was going to explode. He looked up and caught Jack flashing him a concerned look. Bitty smiled and waved, placating him for the moment but still recognizing they’d probably still talk about it later at home.

_Home._

When did Jack’s apartment start to mean home to him?

Only the Falconers managed to score in the third period, bringing them to a win at 4-1. Bitty hovered just outside the family waiting area, still never letting himself get too close where the media was concerned, and scrolled aimlessly through his phone while he waited on Jack. The old Haus group chat was flooded with notifications. It was mostly commending Jack on his goal and cursing the D-man that hit him, and Bitty typed a quick ‘he did such a great job! :)’ before closing it.

Soon enough, Jack jogged around the corner in sweats. His hair was still wet from the shower, and his clear impatience to see Eric again made Bitty’s heart flutter.

“Oh, sweetheart, you did wonderfully!” Bitty gave him a quick hug, hyperaware that they were still in public. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah? Well, I always play better when you’re here.”

“Hush, you.” Bitty started walking the route back to Jack’s car in an effort to hide his blush.

Jack hurried to catch up, chuckling. “I’m just lucky I was able to worm my way out of doing press coverage. Remind me that I owe Thirdy a favor.”

“I’ll make him a batch of those lemon bars he likes so much.”

“That’s also an option. But only if you think you have time.”

“Are you doubting me, Mr. Zimmermann?”

Jack shook his head and grinned. “Never.”

The short ride back to Jack’s apartment building was a quiet one, but it was comfortable. Providence was so pretty at night with all the streetlights glowing over the cobblestone sidewalks. Jack’s face was highlighted by the lights, and Bitty was suddenly struck breathless by how perfect this all seemed. How _right_ it felt.

Bitty saw the exhaustion settle in Jack’s eyes after he cut the ignition. He gently lead the hockey player to the elevators and up to the condo. Jack allowed himself to yawn once they were safely inside, and he pulled Bitty into a bear hug.

“I really like having you here after a game.”

Bitty smiled into his chest. “I like being here.”

“Good.”

They stood like that for a few moments, just savoring each others’ presence in the darkness of the apartment. Bitty was convinced Jack was going to fall asleep standing up an eventually pulled back to direct him towards the bedroom. Jack resisted slightly, prompting Bitty to look up at him inquisitively.

“I would really like it if you moved in here after you graduated.”

“You… really?”

Bitty wasn’t expecting that. He’d definitely thought about it, but he was raised better than to assume that was what Jack wanted. If Jack hadn’t offered, Bitty didn’t know where he would have ended up. Bitterly, he realized he would have ended up back in Georgia, which would have been unbearable for several reasons.

“I know I’ll be busy and not around for most of the year, but I think just knowing I’ll get to come home to you would be worth it.” Jack frowned, which ended up looking a little silly with how tired he was. “Assuming you _want_ to move in with me.”

Too overwhelmed for anything else, Bitty launched himself at Jack and kissed him hard. They teetered backwards and Jack’s back hit the wall outside the bedroom. Jack laughed into the kiss, and that made Bitty start laughing too and break the kiss.

“So is that a yes?”

“Lord you beautiful man, _yes_ , absolutely.”

Jack nested his forehead into Bitty’s hair. “I can barely remember what my life was like before you. It’s all bits and pieces and hard emotions and…and bad decisions, but it doesn’t feel as _real_ as the past few years have been.”

“I’m going to have to stop you right there, mister, or I’m going to cry, and it’s much too late for that.”

Jack let out a breathy laugh and pulled away. “Okay, Bud.”

“Let’s get you to bed, mmkay? And can I request that you skip the run tomorrow? I have a feeling I’ll be in the mood for a lazy morning in bed.”

“Maybe just this once.”

They quickly changed into pajamas and brushed their teeth before curling up under the covers. Just as Bitty thought Jack was falling asleep he reopened his eyes and studied Bitty’s face with a frown.

“Hey.”

Bitty hummed softly. “Hey.”

“What were you upset about at the game?”

Oh. Bitty had almost forgotten about that. “I… It was that check you took. The one with the elbowing penalty.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” Bitty shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I just got angry at myself because of how jealous I suddenly felt.”

“What do you mean?”

Bitty rolled over onto his back and reached up to rest his hand on Señor Bun as a quiet comfort for himself. “I take a hit like that, and I come away with a serious injury, but when _you_ do… It just isn’t fair.”

“I know this isn’t easy on you, Bits. Two more months, yeah?” Jack pulled Bitty closer to him.

“Yeah.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Bitty kissed his nose. “You can sleep, so we can have that lazy morning I want.”

“I can do that.”

With that, Jack shut his eyes again and burrowed his face against Bitty’s cheek. Soon enough his breathing settled, and Bitty used quiet sound of Jack breathing to lull himself to sleep. His last thought before sleep overtook him was of his parents and how much he hoped they would understand how much Jack meant to him.


	13. Waking Dreams & Sleeping Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw: talking frankly about mental illness, Bitty's nightmares about being locked in the janitor's closet

The concrete hallway stretched before him was barely lit. The lights flickered and reflected off the shiny metal of the lockers, and Bitty’s breath shook at the same frequency as the flickering lights. He adjusted the backpack on his shoulder and cautiously made his way down the hall. If he could just make it to the double doors opposite him, he could start his walk home. He reached out for the pushbar on the door when they swung open. He stumbled backwards at the sight of— 

That wasn’t the kid who used to torment Bitty.

It was the Cornell defenseman. Harris.

The hallway turned to ice, and Bitty slid backwards uncontrollably. His back slammed into the supply closet door and his breath caught in his throat when he realized what would happen next. Harris suddenly loomed over him, faceless because Bitty couldn’t remember what he looked like, but he _did_ remember that red number 13 jersey.

An elbow crashed into his chest, and Bitty was trapped. His chest hurt and he couldn’t breathe and his fists ached from pounding on the locked door. He tried to call out but his throat was already raw, like he’d been shouting for hours. The voices of his parents echoed from the other side.

“That boy seems to like it in there, doesn’t he?”

“Perhaps its best that we leave him in there. You know how people talk, Richard.”

“If something was wrong, he’d say something.”

Bitty tried to yell but _couldn’t_ and his face was wet and he _couldn’t breathe_ —

And he sat up in Jack’s bed. He was shaking and crying and Jack’s arms were already around him pulling Bitty into his chest. It’d been months since he’d had that nightmare, and Bitty felt sick.

Eventually, Bitty caught his breath and calmed down. He glanced over at the clock and saw the numbers flash _5:37_. He woke Jack up.

“You’re okay, Bud. I’ve got you.” Jack whispered into Bitty’s hair, and the last bit of tension bled out of him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Do you want to talk about it?”

Bitty nodded. “Maybe.”

“Was it the same one?”

“Yes.” Bitty let out a shaky sigh. “No. Sort of. It was mostly the same, but it… it wasn’t him. It was that D-man. Uh, what’s his name, Harris. It was like that check I took found its way into it.”

“I’m sorry you had relive that. Any of it.”

“I can’t believe I ruined my own morning in bed.” Bitty pouted a bit and snuggled closer to Jack.

He shook his head and pressed a soft kiss to Bitty’s temple. “You didn’t ruin it. Do you want to go back to sleep and try again?”

“Don’t want to sleep right now.”

“Okay. We can just lay here then.”

“That sounds nice.”

They curled up against each other. There were so many situations that Bitty faced that left him wishing he was taller or bigger, but cuddling with Jack was never one of those. Regardless of who was spooning who or positions like the one they were in currently with their arms and legs tangled and foreheads pressed together, Bitty always felt like he and Jack fit together very nicely. And on the mornings they were together when Bitty woke up heart racing and tears rolling down his cheeks, he loved how Jack’s larger form coiled around him made him feel safe.

Realistically Bitty knew that if someone _not them_ looked at the way they functioned, they’d see two very emotionally messy people. Jack was a heavily closeted athlete with a professionally diagnosed anxiety disorder who definitely ate his meals thinking more about protein content rather than taste and spent more time thinking about how he could fuck things up instead of actually enjoying what he had. And _Bitty_ … He knew he had a laundry list of issues that he’d never bothered getting help with. The obvious post-traumatic stress was something he’d avoided acknowledging for years, and that combined with his heavy guilt complex and frequent periods of low self-esteem definitely made him a little messy. Especially if he included the stress baking that was usually followed by stress _eating_.

They loved each other anyway, though.

“I wish I could do something to make them stop.”

The frustrated tone of Jack’s voice prompted Bitty to clutch tighter at Jack’s pajama top. Jack raked his eyes across Bitty’s face, searching for something, although Bitty didn’t know what. He knew Jack was worried about him.

“It’s okay… Really. They hardly bother me anymore.”

Jack propped himself up with one arm, breaking their position. “You shouldn’t have to deal with them at all, Bits. Whenever I see you wake up from that nightmare… I just think about all the times they happen when I’m not there. And I hate it.”

“I know, sweet pea.” Bitty pushed himself to a sitting position. His voice came out soft, like he could barely get the words out. “I think the same kind of things whenever you have a panic attack.”

“That’s different.”

“Not really.”

Jack ran his free hand through his hair, looking like the words he wanted to say were just out of reach. “But it _is_. I take medication to keep my anxiety at manageable levels so I never reach that point. Nowadays I only have one…maybe twice a _year_. You’re waking up like this every _couple of weeks_.”

“Jack—”

“You know, ever since you told me about your recurring nightmare, I’ve wondered if it was tied to your checking block. I’ve never brought it up because I thought I was just overanalyzing things again, but since it changed to include the injury you got from _being_ _checked_ , I don’t think that’s too far off anymore.”

Taking a shaky breath, Bitty buried his face in his arms. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to push you, but I think you should. If not with me, then at least with someone.”

Bitty felt cold. He couldn’t. That was never even an option for him. Bitty never once judged Jack for his routine appointments with his therapist, but he never imagined that he could be bad enough to need the same treatment. A few nightmares didn’t mean he had to be _scrutinized_. He managed his checking issue just fine more or less on his own, and that was far more troublesome than a couple of bad memories. He was fine. Bitty met Jack’s eyes.

“It’s not that serious, Jack, please.”

“I’ll drop it if you really want me to, but I’m still worried. There’s no shame in asking for help. That’s definitely something I wished I figured out sooner.”

The sincerity in Jack’s voice gave Bitty pause. Maybe he was underestimating this. Like he did with his injury. He trusted Jack’s judgment more than anything, and while he doubted he wanted to go as far as seeking professional help, he figured he could convince himself to talk to Jack at least about what happened to him. The full story.

In the meantime, Bitty dodged. “Is it bad that I’m glad you didn’t? If you had, I probably would have never met you.”

“I don’t want to even think about not having you here.”

“Me either.” Bitty laughed softly and tugged on Jack’s shoulders. “It’s still morning, which means I still get to be lazy with you.”

Jack tried to look skeptical, but a grin quickly sneaked its way onto his lips. He let himself be pulled back into their earlier cuddling position with a sigh.

“This doesn’t mean I’m dropping this conversation.”

“I know, honey. But postponing it won’t hurt nothing.” Bitty pressed a light kiss to Jack’s chin.

Jack rolled his eyes and squeezed Bitty close to his chest. Caught off guard, Bitty let out an undignified squawk. He shouted at Jack to quit being such a menace, citing his poor recovering sternum as reasons to let him go. Jack lightened his grip only slightly, leading Bitty to huff indignantly and try unsuccessfully to push himself free. The awkward angle combined with Jack’s muscle mass made it nearly impossible for Bitty to squirm free, although he couldn’t help laughing until his cheeks hurt at his own worthless attempts at doing so. Eventually Jack relented after Bitty called him a menace three more times. They stayed in bed together well into the lunch hour, and Jack only forced them both up after their stomachs were begging for sustenance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: Due to the holidays I'm not going to be able to really update for a hot second, but there will be more coming. If you want to chat about this fic (or tbh check please in general) hmu on tumblr @masquerace.


	14. Don't Trip

After lunch, Bitty stalled and knew he was doing it. He cleaned Jack’s kitchen, asked probing questions about the open novel in Jack’s hands, scrolled aimlessly through every social media platform he had an account on… but he knew what he had to do. This wasn’t even supposed to be the hard part. His mother knew about him, and she didn’t hate him for it. This next step in finally telling his parents the truth was a logical one. Not to mention, they both knew and adored Jack. There shouldn’t have been any problem with Bitty calling his mother up.

There was still a part of him that was scared, though.

If Bitty were single when he came out to his parents, it would have all too easy to not talk about his love life. In a perfect world he would love to think he could talk endlessly about the boys he dated with his mother, but at least then he could have made excuses as to why he never did. _It wasn’t serious_ , he would have told himself. _He wants to be sure about a boy before he brings him home_. But Bitty wasn’t single. He was dating Jack, and everything with Jack was perfect. Bitty had already brought him home, back during that first summer they were together, which made his excuses moot. They had already lived together for a summer. Bitty was moving in with Jack in six months. He needed to tell his parents soon, so their dating had time to sink in before he dropped that bombshell on them as well.

Bitty wasn’t twelve and hiding from the kids who grabbed at him and called him ‘ _fairy boy_ ’ anymore. And he knew deep down that he didn’t have to be afraid of his parents.

“Dicky… You _did_ call.” Suzanne picked up on the first ring.

Bitty swallowed the lump in his throat. “Of course, Momma. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Oh, no. I was just watching the ball game with your Daddy.” She paused. “I’m in the kitchen now, though, since I figured you might have wanted some more… privacy.”

“I’ll have to talk to Coach about this eventually, too. But, uh, thanks, Momma.”

“Well, I have to say it’s good you’re finally taking initiative on something for a change. This is… a lot to take in, but I’m glad you’re speaking up.”

A wry laugh bubbled up in Bitty’s throat. “It’s easier to avoid it all sometimes.”

“I know, honey.”

A long pause stretched between them. Bitty could hear the television echo in the silence from the other room where his dad was watching football, even if the announcer’s words were too distant to be understood. The sound of Jack turning the page of his book felt too loud in the otherwise silent apartment. The longer the pause lasted, the harder his heart beat against his ribcage until Bitty felt like he would burst.

Suzanne eventually spoke first. “Well, let’s hear about this, erm… this boy you’re… uh.”

“Dating. I—“ Bitty swallowed. _Lord_ , his mouth was dry. “I have a boyfriend.”

Saying it out loud to his mother felt like he was posed on the ice at his first competition again. Terrified, but so, so _free_.

“Yes, yes. Your boyfriend.” She said it like she had trouble forcing her tongue to form the words, but she said it and that was all that mattered to Bitty.

He glanced up and made eye contact with Jack from across the room. “I’m dating Jack, Momma.”

“Ja—Jack... Jack? _Wait_. Jack _Zimmermann_?”

“…Yes, ma’am.”

“ _Well_ , you certainly have _fantastic_ taste.” She sounded a little starstruck, which made Bitty have to bite back a grin.

“Mmhmm.”

“When did… when did things between you two change?”

Bitty thought back to the day he and Jack danced around each other in the Haus kitchen while working on their final project for Professor Atley’s seminar. If he was being honest, that was when the energy between he and Jack really shifted. The transition from barely-tolerable teammate to what they were now probably started back when Jack first suggested checking practices, but Bitty didn’t really feel it until that day. Bitty knew what his mother wanted to know, though.

“Uh, well, technically he officially asked me to be his boyfriend the August before last, but really it was on his graduation day.”

Suzanne was quiet for half a beat. “Does that mean…your father and I allowed you to share a room _under our roof_ with your significant other?”

“Uh.” _Shit_. He had not thought about that. “Momma, we didn’t—“

“You better _not_ have.”

“I couldn’t exactly insist Jack not stay in my room without making myself any more obvious than I already was.” Jack snorted and Bitty shot him a look. “Besides, you raised me right.”

Bitty could hear the soft smile in his mother’s voice. “Smart boy. Do you…do you love him?”

Jack was clearly eavesdropping by this point, even if he couldn’t hear anything Suzanne was saying from his chair. Bitty watched as his eyes flickered up over the top of his book, and Jack grinned sheepishly when he realized he was caught. In an attempt to save himself, he mouthed a quiet apology. Bitty rolled his eyes and blew him a kiss.

“Yes.”

Suzanne hummed, and Bitty imagined her looking out the little window in their kitchen as she cradled her phone by her ear. “And does he love you? And treat you right.”

Jack was now using his book to shield his face, although the effect was twice as ridiculous considering his eyes were still peeking over the top of it. Bitty had to smother a laugh and hoped his mother didn’t notice.

“He does. I still have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming sometimes.”

“I can’t imagine why. Don’t sell yourself short, Dicky, he’s the one who should be doing that.”

“Thanks, Mom-Momma.” Bitty choked when he realized Jack was now hovering directly behind him. This boy was going to be the death of him.

Suzanne giggled, and Bitty felt his cheeks heat up. “He’s right there, isn’t he?”

“ _Yes_ , being very nosy.” Jack shrugged, clearly not feeling guilty in the slightest.

“Well, put him on. I’d like to talk to him.”

Bitty smirked and handed the phone out to Jack, who immediately looked a little panicked. Giving him a look that said ‘ _that’s what you get, Mister Zimmermann_ ’, Bitty forced the phone into his hands.

“Uh, hello, Mrs. Bittle.”

“Goodness, I’ve already told you to call me Suzanne.”

“Sorry, uh, Suzanne. Just being careful.”

Bitty raised an eyebrow, taking great pleasure in watching Jack stumble over a conversation with his mother. He took pity on him though, and reached out to squeeze Jack’s hand reassuringly. It seemed to help based on how the tension eased from Jack’s shoulders.

“Now, I’m sure you’re aware that this is new for Richard and I, Jack. And, well, Dicky is our only child. We’re both fiercely protective of him, so don’t you dare go getting his hopes up if you aren’t serious about him. I suppose there isn’t anything we can do to discourage this any, so y’all are going to have to be patient with us while we figure it out. This… _you_ clearly mean the world to him… especially considering he refused to say anything to us for near a month through all this.”

“I’ll take care of him. I promise. Although, I’d be lying if I said he didn’t take care of me in equal amounts.”

A soft frown flickered across Bitty’s face.

“That’s all I ask.”

Suzanne was quiet for a moment, which made Jack nervous. He knew how close Bitty and his mother were, so he really wanted her to be supportive of their relationship. Especially if Bitty was going to be in his life for as long as he hoped. They’d only been dating almost a year and a half, but Jack couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy. He was pretty sure it was back when he first started hockey. While Bitty would laugh at him for that comparison, he made Jack feel the way playing hockey did, and he was _so completely certain_ about hockey.

“I would like Dicky to come home for Thanksgiving this year. He…he hasn’t for the past few years, and we’ve missed him something awful. It’s helped in past years knowing that he would if he could, but so much has happened this year already between this and his injury… I keep feeling like we’re losing him. I was thinking if we extended the invitation to you as well he might come home.”

Jack covered the end of his phone and caught Bitty’s attention. “Your mother wants both of us to go to Madison for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, Lord.” Bitty leaned back against the back of the couch and ran both his hands through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m ready to do that. Not with everyone.”

Jack nodded. “What if they come here? Just your parents. It’s the 24th, right? I have a game in Boston the day before, but that isn’t too bad a drive. I’m sure I can convince my parents to come down too if only to help keep the pressure off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Bits.”

“Then I could do that.”

Smiling, Jack moved his hand. “Would you two be opposed to spending the holidays up here? Eric thinks it’s a great idea, and I’m sure my parents would love to see the both of you again.”

“Oh! Well, let me ask Richard. Lord knows it’d be nice to have one holiday where I don’t have to argue with my sister over _jam_. Even if she is wrong.”

Jack could hear Suzanne’s muffled voice explaining the situation to Coach. His response was garbled, but it was clearly a question because Suzanne started speaking again. She huffed and put the phone back to her ear.

“Jack? Richard has a couple more questions he wants to ask you, so I’m going to hand the phone over.”

Jack flashed Bitty a frantic look before answering. “Oh, alright.”

“Hello?” Coach’s voice was softer than Jack expected, even if he definitely knew that Bitty’s father didn’t have a gruff voice typically associated with the kind of person Bitty made him out to be.

Jack actually really liked Coach from their brief interactions back when Jack visited Madison. He reminded Jack a lot of Bitty in the way that he seemed to take great pride in taking care of his family and home. Bitty had always talked about him like he was this hulking sports nut without a caring bone in his body, but it took Jack all of five seconds of talking with the man to recognize that wasn’t true. He never really mentioned that to Bitty. Jack chalked it up to the same feelings he had about his own father for years. He spent the better part of his teenaged years convinced he had to do his absolute best every second of every day in order for his dad to ever be close to proud of him, but he knew now that was all Jack projecting his own anxieties and fears onto who he thought his father was. Coach wasn’t nearly as scary as _Suzanne_ , in Jack’s mind.

“Hi, Coach Bittle.”

Bitty’s eyebrows shot up, and his expression read ‘ _nothing good can come of this_ ’.

Coach laughed. “Only my students call me that, Jack. It’s Rick, please. Unless you’re planning on enrolling in tenth grade Government down here.”

“No, no.” Jack grinned.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised about you and Junior. I suspected the minute I found out about his…tastes. He’s a good kid, under it all, but don’t let him give up on things too easily. Sometimes he just needs a little push to keep going.”

“I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Now what’s this I hear about Thanksgiving?”

Jack chatted with Coach about the specifics of the trip for several minutes, mostly figuring it out as he went along since the event was more or less a spur of the moment decision. Bitty watched Jack cautiously from his position against the couch, and Jack could see the tension riding in his shoulders. Once Coach was satisfied, he asked Jack to pass the phone over to Bitty.

Bitty’s eyes widened when Jack handed it out to him.

“What does he want?” His voice was a hissed whisper, and Jack sighed.

“He just wants to make sure you’re okay, Bits.”

“Can’t you tell him that?”

“Bits.”

“ _Fine_.” Bitty took the phone. “Hey, Coach.”

Coach cleared his throat. “Junior. I’m glad you called your mother. She’s happier than I’ve seen her in weeks.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I…” Bitty rounded the couch and sank down onto the cushions. “Y’all didn’t deserve that. Don’t deserve this.”

“We just want what’s best for you. We’ll get over our hang ups, alright?”

“I didn’t expect y’all to want me to come back for the holidays this year after dumping all this on y’all. With Jack, I mean. That…would’ve been a lot for the rest of the family to deal with.”

Coach sighed, and the phone caught the sound of his chair squeaking. “We would have taken care of any talk. It would have been worth it just to see your uncle’s face when he found out you landed yourself a famous athlete.”

“You would have told everyone?”

“Well, yeah. It wouldn’t feel right asking you to hide, especially after seeing how much it was affecting you.”

A ghost of a smile hovered on Bitty’s lips. He was so _lucky_. Things could have gone so much worse than they did. His parents could have never spoken to him again, and he was expecting them not to. He looked up at where Jack was watching him silently with his big blue dopey eyes. _Doubly lucky_.

“Junior?”

“Oh! Sorry, Coach. Um, thank you, though.”

Coach let out a gruff laugh. “Yeah, yeah.” He hesitated for a minute. “You doing alright, son?”

“Better.”

“Good. And how’s that injury of yours? Been keeping ice on it?”

“Not so much anymore. The swelling’s gone down a bunch and the bruising is nearly gone, but it still hurts if I wait too long to take the painkillers.”

“Don’t slack on that. I know it feels like torture right now, but you can’t rush healing any.”

“I know. I’m being careful.”

Coach grunted in acknowledgement. “I’ll let you get back to talking with your momma, then.”

“Alright. Bye, Coach.”

“I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Bitty talked with his mother absently about what she should bring up for Thanksgiving and the town gossip he missed over the past several weeks for the next few minutes before easing into a farewell. After being freed, Bitty flopped back onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Jack joined him and trailed his fingers through Bitty’s hair. Bitty could still feel the swirling mess of stress and fear fluttering in his stomach, but he tried to stave it off by reminding himself that his parents loved him and that Jack loved him.

He didn’t remember dozing off, but Bitty woke on the couch from another nightmare. Jack pulled him into his lap and held him until the shaking stopped. Bitty thanked the heavens silently that Jack didn’t pursue the matter again, but he now agreed that he should start to actively do something about them.

Maybe.


	15. The Fall of Icarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been planning this chapter since the beginning of this fic, and I'm so glad it finally fits into the storyline. I can't believe it took me 15 chapters- whoops >_>

Jack rolled over and blinked sleepily when his alarm went off at 5:30. He felt colder than usual, but he realized when he sat up that Bitty wasn’t wrapped around him anymore. He took the train back to Samwell last night. Jack sighed and forced himself to his feet, shuffling around in the dark to find his running clothes. Once he was dressed, he found his way to the kitchen. The coffee and toast he made himself so he wasn’t literally _running_ on empty somehow seemed less flavorful without Bitty there. That didn’t really make any sense, but that didn’t stop him from thinking it.

He checked his watch. _5:48_. He needed to leave if he didn’t want to be late to meet George.

She was stretching by their usual meeting place when Jack ran into view. Georgia waved when she saw him, and Jack slowed his pace.

“Morning, superstar.”

“Hey, George.”

“You seem a little glum, Jack. Let me guess, Bittle went home?”

“He had class today, and as much as I love having him here, he has to keep up with his studies.”

She grinned. “Those his words or yours?”

“Mine, obviously. I feel like he’d drop out in a second if he felt like he could get away with it.”

“We can’t all be academic types.” She gave him a pointed look, implying the chirp.

Jack rolled his eyes with a smirk, recognizing that he would forever be labeled a nerd in the eyes of his team as long as he kept reading biographies while they traveled.

They started their run, and Jack let his body go into autopilot. He liked running with George. She always seemed to know when he needed to push a little harder or let his mind wander without him having to say anything. Jack couldn’t deny that she helped make his decision to sign with Providence easier.

“You seem distracted this morning.”

Jack huffed, glancing over at Georgia. “Bittle’s been having family problems.” He wasn’t sure how much Bitty would be okay with Georgia knowing, but it was part of her job to make sure things were alright with him.

“Anything serious?”

“I hope not. His parents are going to be up here for Thanksgiving, though, and I’m trusting that’ll help things.”

“Let me know if you need me to do anything.”

“Could you actually see if I could get three tickets for them for the Bruins game that Wednesday? It’ll give them something to do, and I would like having Bittle there.”

“I’ll get on that for you.” She grinned. “I feel like we should be paying Bittle to come to the Falconers’ games sometimes.”

Jack nudged her shoulder. “Come on, I don’t play _that_ much better.”

“You don’t watch those games.”

“I do later.”

Georgia laughed and outpaced him slightly. Jack pushed to catch up and with a grin, passing _her_ in turn. It quickly turned into a race along the river, and Jack let himself laugh freely. The cool morning air rushed against his skin, giving him a sense of freedom that he rarely felt off the ice. Maybe it was just that cool air was the perfect counter for the light weight of his everyday anxieties.

Soon Georgia slowed to a stop and bent over with her hands on her knees. “Alright, Mr. Athletic, you win.”

“You okay?” Jack pulled himself back and looped around to stop next to her.

“Just give me a second. I may be in good shape, but I’m not a professional anymore.”

Jack’s chest was heaving, but his heart pounded because of the exercise, which was a good thing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wear you out.”

“Your competitive streak is great for the team, Zimmermann, but not so much for me.” She straightened up and stretched her arms over her head. “Are you this much of a show off with Eric?”

Her smile is playful, so Jack shot her a similar look in return. “Bits is faster than I am, George.”

“Are you sure he doesn’t want to do hockey professionally? I could probably even pull some strings so that he doesn’t have to go through the recruitment camps.”

“I’ve asked him a couple times, actually, but he doesn’t want that kind of pressure. Besides, I think deep down he feels that if he ever did any kind of sport professionally he’d go back to figure skating.”

“He was really talented. There was a lot of talk about him possibly qualifying for the Olympics right before he quit.”

“Wait, really?”

Georgia stared at him. “Have you really never googled your boyfriend?”

“Uh, no.”

“Have you ever even watched some of his old competitions?”

Jack shrugged, suddenly feeling guilty for never asking Bitty about his skating. “I never realized I could.”

“Honestly I shouldn’t be surprised you haven't. I went through and watched a bunch of them after you told me the two of you were dating. You know, as a background check. We’re going back to your apartment and immediately looking this up. I guess I figured he talked to you about this.” She started walking back that direction.

Following, Jack realized Bitty had never mentioned his life as a former figure skater outside of the fact that he was one. “No, he didn't.”

“Do you at least know why he quit?”

“I asked him before we started dating back at Samwell once, and he said it was because they moved away from his coach.” As Jack said it he realized how hollow that sounded. It was an excuse, albeit a factual one, but there’s no way Bitty, who was apparently good enough to qualify for the Olympics according to Georgia, would have given up something he loved that easily.

“Uh-huh… I wonder if…” Georgia frowned.

“What?”

“His last National Competition. I had completely forgotten about it. He fell like three times and then left the ice in the middle of his program. And he never came back.”

Jack froze. “What year was that?” 

“I don’t really remember.” Georgia paused and looked back at him. “Maybe…’07? ’08? We can check. Why?”

“I think I might know what happened to make Bitty give up ice skating.” Jack suddenly wanted to kill people he’d never met. Well, not suddenly. But the feeling doubled when he realized what they made Bitty lose.

Back at Jack’s apartment, he and Georgia settled down onto his couch while she pulled up articles and videos in different tabs. Jack skimmed the articles about Bitty’s skating achievements first. They talked about him coming out of nowhere, taking the skating world by storm with his seemingly natural ability and showmanship. Snippets about his coach, Katya Petrov, and her career as apparently mainly a ballet instructor. The headline of the last article stuck in his head.

‘Eric Bittle Disqualified in Junior Nationals for Leaving Mid-Program.’ _December_ _2008_.

Jack buried his face in his hands and counted backwards from ten to keep his anger in check. He knew Bitty moved to Madison the summer between middle and high school. He also knew that the supply closet incident was earlier that year. It only made sense that the two were connected. When he looked up again, George was leaning forward and watching him carefully.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Jack’s voice sounded hoarse, so he cleared his throat. “I just want to kill a couple people.”

“You aren’t allowed to, Jack. You’re no good to the team in prison.” She was trying to lighten the mood, and it only worked slightly.

Jack cracked a smile anyway and closed the tab. “Yeah, okay. I’m going to have to talk to him about this later.”

“…Well, alright.” Georgia pulled up the first video.

A much younger Bitty stood frozen at center ice with carefully posed arms. His hair was longer, and it reminded Jack of what he looked like his frog year at Samwell. His outfit was fitted black pants—leggings, even—and a loose black and purple shirt that shimmered in the light. The neck was a deeper V than most of the tees Bitty normally wore, and Jack wondered if that was why Bitty started wearing them in the first place. The announcers introduced the program as the Junior Nationals’ qualifying competition for the Eastern division for 2006, and talked about Bitty’s performance until that point. They all sounded very impressed with how he’d been performing so far, nursing a bloom of pride Jack held for Bitty.

The music started, and Jack watched as the young Bitty sprang into life. The music was classical but fast, and Bitty spun around the rink in time to the beat with large, elegant arm gestures. He readied himself for the first jump of his routine, and Jack felt his heart leap as Bitty shakily landed what the announcer called a triple lutz followed by a double toe loop. 

Jack wasn’t overly familiar with figure skating terminology, but he recognized how good Bitty was. He apparently placed second overall, which meant he qualified for Nationals that year. Georgia eyed Jack curiously and grinned at the awestruck expression on his face. He had seen Bitty do jumps and spins in person several times, but actually watching him _perform_ a choreographed program was something else entirely.

They watched several more videos of Bitty on the ice, and Jack was constantly impressed by how much delicate strength Bitty possessed. With each performance he flubbed less and less bits until his programs were near perfect.

Georgia hesitated on pressing play over the last one. It was labeled as a long program, but the 3:23 marker on the video made Jack realize what it was.

“Do you want to watch this one, Jack?” George seemed concerned.

Jack nodded slowly. “I want to see.”

She hit play and Bitty stood at center ice again, this time in a shimmery white top with his usual tight black pants. The camera showed a close up of his face, and Jack could already tell that his heart wasn’t in it like with the previous videos. Something had changed, and Jack could feel his heart ache at the thought.

Bitty moved once the music started and his movements were almost robotic compared to his previous fluidity. The announcer prepared them for his first jump, and Bitty gave a single instead of the expected triple axel. He prepared for a triple salchow, but his positioning was off, and he lost balance and fell hard onto his hands. Bitty forced himself up and continued. By that point, the announcer started speculating about this seemingly out of nowhere awful performance. Bitty still moved stiffly, and he sank into a sit spin only to lose balance and topple so he was sitting on the ice. Jack’s heart broke when he saw Bitty bury his face in hands and just _sit there_ while the music continued. Shakily, Bitty pushed himself to his feet and immediately skated off the ice. The announcers continued to talk for another minute, but Jack cut the video off.

He stared at the video paused on the empty ice until he got his breathing under control, and then turned to Georgia. “They ruined skating for him.”

“They?” She rested a hand on Jack’s shoulder, and he welcomed the comfort, even if all he wanted to do was comfort _Bitty_.

“Bits… There were… He wasn’t ever really _accepted_ when he was in Georgia.” He settled on that, still unsure of how much he was allowed to tell her.

George nodded slowly, dropping her eyes. “That’s really shitty.”

“Yeah.” Jack sighed. “He’s starting coaching this kids’ figure skating group while he recovers from his injury, and I don’t remember the last time I saw him so _excited_ about something that wasn’t baking related. He clearly still loves it, and I hate that he never really got the chance to go anywhere with it.”

“That’s great that he’s getting the chance again with coaching. Didn’t you do the same thing?” George nudged him and raised an eyebrow.

Jack nodded slowly. “I mean, yeah. But I was _nineteen_ , George. Bittle is turning twenty-two soon. We both know there’s an age limit on athletics.”

“I know.” She sighed and stood up. “It really sucks.”

Jack shut his laptop and urged George towards the kitchen. Thankfully for Jack’s nerves, she changed the subject while he prepared a late breakfast for the two of them. He didn’t usually do that on regular run days, but Jack really didn’t want to eat alone. Luckily she didn’t protest. Jack’s mind kept wandering back to the parallel between his and Bitty’s situations despite the change of subject. But, Bitty hadn’t done anything to move past his trauma any unlike what Jack did. Jack checked into rehab the day he was released from the hospital and spent a frustratingly long year working on dialing back his problem to manageable levels. It took him another two after that before he trusted himself to live alone and away from the watchful eye of his parents.

As incredible as it would be, Jack didn’t think Bitty had enough time.

If Georgia noticed Jack wasn’t fully paying attention to the conversation, she didn’t point it out. They ended up eating on the couch in silence.


	16. Center Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a figure skater in any sense. Bear with me.

Bitty could hardly sit still through his lecture that afternoon. Normally the Monday after visiting Jack for a weekend had him pouting and melancholy, but he had his first coaching practice after class. The second his professor dismissed them, Bitty was out of his seat in a flash. Ford caught him outside of Faber, and she hollered at him to slow down.

“You aren’t supposed to be running yet, Bitty!”

He grinned at her but slowed to a stop. “Sorry! Sorry. I’m excited.”

“Little guy, even bigger feelings.”

“I’m literally five inches taller than you, honey.”

“Doesn’t matter, Bittle. Go change. You’re going to need to warm up a bit before those kids get here.”

Bitty huffed a bit, but ducked down the hall and into the locker room once she unlocked the door. By this point, he had been in the men’s locker room at Faber hundreds of times. It felt different that time, though. Bitty had pulled on his yoga pants and a loose shirt and was lacing up his (regretfully, _hockey_ ) skates when it hit him. This was the first time he was in Faber with the direct intension of figure skating. This was the first time in _years_ he’d gone _anywhere_ with the intension of figure skating. Bitty pushed back the memory of his last time on the ice in figure skates and boxed it up nice and neat. He didn’t have time to dwell on that.

Ford watched him carefully as Bitty hobbled out to the ice from the locker room. He eased off the guards and slid out onto the ice for the first time in almost a month. Feeling free, Bitty took advantage of the time he had and glided around the rink with practiced ease. He was worried the break would have made his balance rusty, but by this point skating was muscle memory.

“You have to stretch, Bitty!” Ford shouted at him from where she was leaning on the divider wall from the bench.

Pulling himself to a stop, Bitty held his hands out in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

He chatted with Ford about how excited he was to meet the kids as he bent over and stretched for his toes. She relayed all the information she had—names, ages, performance song, what Penny had been working on with them—as Bitty went through his usual warm-ups. Eventually, he straightened up again.

“Alright. Time to see exactly how much I remember.” Bitty grinned, knowing that despite how out of practice he was his body still remembered what to do.

“Impress me!” Ford returned his grin.

Bitty sprinted across the ice and positioned himself for a double lutz. His landing was shaky, but he landed it. He moved into a double loop, then a triple toe loop, then a single axel. His chest was heaving, and Bitty had to pause with one hand on the divider after the quick succession of jumps.

Ford leaned further forward and knocked against the wall to get Bitty’s attention. “How are you feeling?”

“Little winded.” Bitty squeezed his eyes shut for half a second, but he quickly reopened his eyes and pushed himself backwards. “I have to make sure I can still do this, though.”

“You know the rules, though. Hall and Murray will kill me if I let you push yourself too hard.”

“Don’t worry, they’d kill me too.”

Bitty circled the ice again before arching into a double flip that lead into a sit spin. He overshot the force of the spin and ended up toppling back onto his ass. Ford chuckled from the sidelines, but she sounded far away.

His ears were roaring with the sound of a crowd that wasn’t actually there.

_The sit spin._

He squeezed his eyes shut.

His heart hammered in his chest.

His mouth felt like chalk.

“—itty? Bitty! Hey!” Ford’s voice yanked him out of his head.

Bitty blinked up at her, and he realized she had been trying to get his attention. _Fuck_. He swallowed and pushed himself up, flashing Ford a wobbly smile.

“Sorry. I’m alright. Let me try that again.”

Ford seemed unconvinced, but she didn’t push. Bitty executed both the jump and the spin perfectly that time.

Soon enough, the first parents arrived with their kids in tow. Bitty halted his refresher warm up and skated over to introduce himself. The kids quickly eased their way onto the ice while he and Ford and the parents talked. Ford nudged him to let him know the practice time had officially started, and Bitty excused himself to gather the kids.

Dorothy and Michael were the oldest at eleven. Then Amanda was next at ten, followed by eight-year-old twins Katarina and Grace. Katarina insisted everyone call her Kat, and they all called Bitty “Mr. B.” The giddy feeling that gave him meant he couldn’t try hide the grin on his face.

Bitty lead them through basic stretching warm-ups and then had them break apart to practice spins individually. He mostly watched, trying to judge their skill levels, but his eyes caught on Michael. The boy was so focused on perfecting the spin, and coupled with the dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he reminded Bitty of a young Jack. He suddenly felt very protective over him.

“Michael, how many jumps are you doing in your individual performance?”

He looked up at Bitty and blinked. “Uh, three. Two toe loops and a lutz.”

“Can you show me your toe loop, honey?”

He nodded. Bitty watched as he skated forward to gain speed and pushed himself into the jump. Michael twirled twice before landing solidly, but his upper body canted forward afterwards. Bitty beckoned him back over.

Michael hesitated before asking, “Was that okay?”

“Well, your balance is a little off, but you otherwise did fine.”

“Yeah.” He frowned a little.

“One thing I’ve learned when doing any kind of jump is that you need to follow your center of gravity. If you lead with your shoulders, you’ll topple yourself right forward. Lead with your legs? Your feet’ll get ahead of you and you’ll fall backwards. Make sense?”

“I think so?”

“Let me show you.” Bitty glided forward and pushed himself up and through a double toe loop. He landed easily, quickly skating back over to Michael. That had caught the attention of the other kids and they skated over to join them.

“Mr. B, that was so cool!” Dorothy grinned. “Watch, I can do a really nice axel!”

Bitty watched carefully as she jumped up into a spin. She overestimated the force she needed for a single and did an extra half turn, but it otherwise was very neat. That lead the others to show off the various jumps and spins they could do for the rest of practice, with Bitty gently correcting any mistakes. He didn’t actually skate that much after his pre-practice warm-up, but he did do a handful of demonstrations to help clarify some of the adjustment points he made. The kids were eager and determined and attentive and full of love for the ice. They reminded Bitty of how he used to race onto the rink with Katya, 4 AM soviet calisthenics or no. He loved hockey more than he ever expected to, but he missed _performing_.

In the last several minutes of practice, Dex, Chowder, and Nursey filed into the stands. Bitty was in the middle of demonstrating how to keep balanced during a camel spin when he caught their eyes, and he nearly lost his footing.

He cleared his throat when he righted himself. “And that’s another very important rule of any move: don’t let yourself get distracted, even if your hockey team crashes a closed practice.”

The kids giggled, and Bitty shot a look at the three frogs.

“Hey, Bitty! That was really cool!” Chowder waved, unaffected by Bitty’s comment.

“What was it that Holster used to say?” Nursey adjusted the beanie on his head and smirked. “’We could make a play out of that?’”

Dex elbowed him. “Bitty’s still benched. Don’t be rude.”

“He’ll be _back_ , though.”

“ _Still_.”

Chowder eyed both of them, looking a little exhausted, before flashing Bitty a grin. Bitty shook his head and reclaimed the kids’ attentions for closing comments. They skated off to meet their parents while waving, and Bitty savored his last few moments on the ice before he was exiled to the bench for hockey practice. Ford thankfully let him stay on for as long as he could. His skin felt like ice under his light clothes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Whether it was for hockey or figure skating, he felt as at home with blades on his feet as he did covered in flour.

_Lord_ , he missed this.


	17. Drown Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about this, I swear! I'm back from the holidays now, so hopefully I can update a little more regularly.
> 
> As always, you can find me on instagram/twitter/tumblr with this same username if you want to scream about these boys with me.

Bitty knew what Jack would say if he knew what Bitty was doing, but honestly after his whirlwind of a week he needed some time for himself. Besides, his Friday class was a lecture class, which meant the notes were mostly all online and attendance wasn’t required. Skipping one day wasn’t the worst thing he could do. After figure skating practice and hockey practice on Thursday, Bitty caught the train down to Providence and let himself into Jack’s empty apartment well before the Falconers’ away game against Colorado started. Samwell had their own games Friday and Sunday, but those were both away too—which meant the team would be in hotels the whole weekend—and Bitty managed to convince Coach Hall to let him stay behind. It wasn’t like he would have been of much use to them anyway. Ollie and Wicks promised to keep the underclassmen in line in his stead, and Bitty was glad this gave them the opportunity to get more involved with the rest of the team.

Alone in the quiet embrace of Jack’s apartment, Bitty one by one mentally unchecked everything he was stressed about. Samwell’s upcoming games. Jack’s emotions about _his_ next few games. Coach. His Momma. Having to tell Moomaw about him and Jack. What the rest of his family would say. The upkeep of his vlog. His thesis. Having to find a job near Providence after graduation. Who he’s going to give his dibs to. The figure skating exhibition. His injury.

Bitty breathed slowly, letting himself take a break from life. Here, he was alone and didn’t have any necessary immediate responsibilities.

“I am going to take a bath.”

Announcing it aloud to the empty condo seemed a little ridiculous, but Bitty knew he didn’t have any reason to be embarrassed. No one was around to catch him talking to himself. He locked the front door and hauled his weekend duffle to Jack’s bedroom before dropping it at the foot of the bed. He dug around Jack’s attached bathroom for the bath luxuries he’d stowed there for a rainy day.

“I’m no weatherman, but I dare say it is pouring.”

The cabinet Bitty was rifling through seemed to agree with him. Eventually he dug out the nice soaps he had been searching for and started up the hot water. Bitty perched on the edge of the tub and did his best to keep his mind empty while watching the water swirl around and steam up the bathroom. When he was satisfied, Bitty shut the water off and artlessly shucked off his clothes. The water scorched the skin of his legs a bit, but Bitty didn’t really mind, especially because he knew that once he adjusted to the heat it would feel heavenly on his aching muscles. He glanced up before easing himself down and caught his reflection in Jack’s bathroom mirror.

Bitty didn’t realize it until he was already staring at his reflection, but he had been avoiding looking at himself the past several weeks. His eyes focused on the mostly faded bruise sprawled across his chest. It was mostly a sickly green, with a reddish-purple stripe running down the center. Bitty watched himself press gingerly against it and wince when a sharp shot through him. It was so easy for him to _forget_ he was injured most days. Sitting out during games and practices sucked, and dropping his workout routine had left him a little restless, but he could forget about what happened the rest of the time. He could forget that he got hurt. Again.

“Enough of this, Eric. You’re supposed to be _de-_ stressing.” He grumbled quietly and broke eye contact with himself.

It figured that the minute he sank his shoulders under the mess of bubbles covering his bath that his phone would ring. Bitty shifted himself so his arms could move easily above the water again and hurriedly wiped his hand on a nearby towel so he could answer.

“Bits, hey.”

A smile eased onto his face, replacing an annoyed scowl. He couldn’t be mad at Jack for interrupting.

“Hi, sweet pea. Your game starts in about an hour, right?”

“Yeah…” He hesitated. “I saw in the group chat that you aren’t going on Samwell’s roadie. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Bitty sighed. “I’m fine. I just didn’t see too much of a reason for me to go traipsing around this weekend when there really isn’t much for me to do besides give motivational speeches.”

“Bits…”

“I know, I know. The team loves having me there, and I’m still their captain despite the fact I can’t join them out on the ice any. Besides,” he sunk a little lower into the water, “I’m actually looking forward to some time alone.”

Jack huffed, accepting defeat in the matter. “I hate the idea of you wandering around the Haus all weekend though. At least promise me you’ll go somewhere.”

“Well, I guess you can say I already managed that.”

“Oh?” Bitty could hear the raised eyebrows in Jack’s voice, and that made him giggle.

“Hang on.”

Bitty tapped away from the call on his phone and opened the camera app. He aimed the screen so he looked cute with his shoulders peeking out of the bubbles and caught just enough of Jack’s bathroom in the background so his surroundings would be recognizable. He sent the picture to Jack and returned his phone to his ear.

“Okay. Check your messages.”

Jack was silent for a moment, but Bitty grinned when he heard him swear under his breath.

“Having a good time, eh?” He paused. “Wait, is that _my_ bathroom? Are you in Providence?”

“You did say I could come here whenever I wanted, honey.”

“I know. Soon it’ll be your home too. I mean, it more or less already is.”

Bitty grinned happily and let himself sink deeper into the water. In an attempt to protect his phone in case he dropped it, he hooked his arm over the side of the tub and leaned so his head was leaning away from the water. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but he could easily fall asleep with the combination of Jack’s soothing voice and the warm water.

"I hope you know that if we win tonight you'll have to send me a picture like this before every game."

“Mmm, I think I could manage that. How big is this tub, anyway?” Bitty wiggled his toes, which were several inches away from the other end of the tub in his current position.

Jack hesitated, thinking. “I think it’s a six foot tub? Maybe less. I remember I liked that apartment because of it, actually. The standard size ones are a little small for me, usually.”

“I suppose there are a few downsides to being tall, huh?” 

“You say that like you’re _short_.”

Bitty snorted. “I _am_ , comparatively. Around normal people I’m perfectly average, sure, but I spend my time with a bunch of big athletic types. Lord knows they make sure I don’t forget _that_ minor detail.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Bits?”

Frowning, Bitty knew he could tell Jack anything and he’d be supportive regardless. He knew Jack loved him, and he knew that none of Bitty’s intrusive self-deprecating thoughts would change that fact. But Bitty also knew Jack had a game in less than an hour and that his boyfriend needed to stay focused to do well, and having him worry about Bitty would only help to break that complete concentration. That was one of the things that overwhelmed Bitty the most about their relationship: Jack had started to think of Bitty more than hockey.

They could have gone into the nagging fears at the back of Bitty’s mind. It definitely wouldn’t have been the first time he brought them up. Bitty could have talked about how he still felt awkward and small compared to everyone else, or about how the bruise on his chest made him feel twice as self-conscious about going shirtless than normal, or about how he was terrified not really working out for three months would set him so much further behind the rest of his team than he already was in the first place. Bitty could have mentioned how scared he was he’d push himself too far while coaching and he’d never get to play hockey again. He could have told Jack that even though his parents knew he was gay and had reluctantly accepted that fact, he was still terrified of seeing them face to face again in a little over a week.

But Jack needed to focus, and they could save those conversations for later.

“Of course, sweet pea. Score a goal for me?”

“Yeah, okay.”

A commotion in the background of Jack’s side pulled him away to shout something at whoever was making that noise.

“You talking to B, Zimmboni? Tell your baker I say hello, and I need more lemon bars.”

“Tater, he doesn’t owe you anything.”

Bitty chuckled. “Tell him I’ll make him a batch of lemon bars if he scores me a goal too.”

Jack passed along the comment with a chirp about Tater’s motivation being tied to his stomach, but Tater only cheered and promised Bitty the goal.

“Hey, I’ve got to go, Bits. Warm-ups. You’ll watch the game, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Heh, good. Talk to you later?”

Bitty smiled softly. “Call me after.”

“Okay.” Jack paused. “I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” _Lord_ , he never got tired of hearing that.

Bitty could hear laughter and chirps from the rest of the Falconers at Jack’s declaration, but they were cut off by Jack disconnecting the call. He had a little time before the game started, but the water had already started to lose its initial heat, so he didn’t want to soak for too much longer. He ducked his head under the water and ran Jack’s shampoo through his hair. Once he felt sufficiently clean, Bitty vacated the tub and dried off while the water swirled down the drain. He slid into his pajamas and nestled himself on the couch to wait for the puck drop. 

The Falconers won 3-2, and both Jack and Tater managed to keep their promises. Bitty made a mental note to remember to make some lemon bars. He also pointedly avoided talking about what had been bothering him when Jack called afterwards.


	18. Bleed On Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: past bullying experiences

Sunday morning found Jack happily impatient on a very early flight back to Providence. They won two of their three games that weekend, and the whole team was in high spirits. Most importantly, though, Jack knew Bitty was waiting for him when he got home. He didn’t actually expect to see Bitty that weekend considering Samwell was on a roadie of their own. Not that he was complaining. What _was_ bothering him was that he still hadn’t figured out how to tell Bitty that he’d watched his old figure skating programs. Jack guessed Bitty wouldn’t be upset by the news, but he wanted to talk about what happened and find out if dipping back into that world again was affecting him. Their conversations had been as pleasant as always, but Bitty had seemed a little off over the past several days. Naming exhaustion as the reason made the most sense, but Jack had to be sure. Making sure Bitty was okay was important.

By the time the plane landed, Jack still wasn’t sure what to say. He mulled it over further on the drive back to his apartment, but he couldn’t come up with a tactful way of mentioning it. Jack sighed as he pulled into his parking spot. He would just have to say it and hope Bitty doesn’t read it as accusatory.

Bitty was still asleep when Jack got home.

He hovered silently in the bedroom doorway, cracking a smile at the way Bitty managed to use every bit of the comforter to cocoon himself. He decided to quietly change out of his suit and join him. As Jack settled down onto the mattress, Bitty shifted slightly and let out a soft whine.

“Jack?”

“Good morning.”

Bitty peered up at him from the safety of the blankets and blinked sleepily. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine. I just got back.”

“Early.”

Jack laughed softly at the way Bitty burrowed back into the covers, although he released his grip on them enough so Jack could join him. He did so, and Jack gently traced his fingers down the back of Bitty’s shirt.

“Did you have a nice weekend?”

Bitty grumbled a bit and pressed his face into Jack’s chest as a response.

“You know, that sounds like you didn’t.”

“It’s too early for chirps, Mister Zimmermann.” Bitty nudged Jack’s thigh with his knee. After a second he added, “I needed this break.”

Jack shifted his hand so he could squeeze Bitty’s shoulder gently. “I’m sorry you’ve been so tired.”

“Not so much tired as stressed.” Bitty shifted up onto his elbow, clearly giving up on getting any more sleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I mean, it’s the same stuff as always. School and the team and my parents… that sort of thing. Nothing really in particular, unless you want to talk more about this awful bruise.”

“Not figure skating?” Jack tried.

Bitty shook his head. “Not really. I mean, I’m a little frustrated with how rusty I am and how much less flexible I’ve gotten, but honestly working with those kids is such a breath of fresh air. It’s the one time I feel like I’m actually accomplishing something. You should see them, Jack. They’re such fast learners, and they’re absolutely adorable.”

“I’d like to. If I’m free, I’ll come to the performance.” He paused. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Hm?”

“Figure skating. I know its been a while for you, but I always figured there was more of a reason behind you pulling out jumps during practice besides just showing off.”

Bitty rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, clearly contemplating the question. “I mean, I _do_ miss it. I can’t deny that. It has such a different feeling to it than hockey does. Maybe if things were different I could have gone somewhere with it, but I made the decision to quit. I don’t regret that. Especially considering what hockey gave me and how much I’ve grown to love it.”

Jack brushed the back of his hand along Bitty’s arm. “Why did you? Quit, I mean.”

“I don’t know. My heart wasn’t really in it anymore.”

“How come?”

He turned his head to look at Jack, frowning. “What's got you so curious?”

It was a defensive technique. Jack had known Bitty long enough to recognize when he was deflecting a conversation away from the core issue at hand, and that only made Jack want to uncover it more. Blame it on something he picked up from his therapists over the years, but he knew that talking about something, no matter how much it hurt to think about, was the best way to move past it. That was why he vowed to be completely honest with Bitty. He had promised the same in return, but Jack hoped he wasn’t crossing some invisible line that would only make Bitty upset.

“I found some of your old competitions online. Well, Georgia showed them to me. She seemed surprised that I didn’t really know anything about it.”

“Oh.”

Jack sighed. “I, uh, also watched your last one.”

“Shit.” Bitty covered his face with his hands. “Is it bad that I wish you hadn’t?” 

“No, of course not. But I’m glad I did. You’ve told me a lot about yourself and what you’ve been through, but I still feel like I don’t know anything about the time before I met you. I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you.”

Bitty stayed silent with his face covered for several minutes. He wasn’t crying, which seemed like a good sign, but his breathing had grown heavier. Jack kept still and quiet and waited for Bitty to respond. As much as he wanted to know what made Bitty drop something he so clearly loved, he also knew that forcing the information out of him would lead to Bitty getting angry with him. Jack didn’t know if he could handle that.

“Remember how I told you Coach had me signed up for peewee football for a little while?” Bitty moved his hands, but avoided Jack’s eyes.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I was also doing figure skating at the same time. Nothing too fancy, just some lessons with Katya once a week. The ’02 Olympics got me hooked on it, and Momma thought it’d be cute if I learned to skate. Peewee was the compromise to get Coach on board. Neither of them expected I’d be any good at it. Katya convinced them to bump my lessons to twice a week so I could enter into the Junior showcase when I was seven, and I _placed_ in my age bracket. Against northern kids who’d been skating their entire lives.”

Jack thumbed the short hair around Bitty’s ears, feeling a swell of pride in his chest.

“I guess my parents were proud, but they never talked about it to other people. Coach only ever complained that I didn’t seem to care about playing football. I talked about it on my own though. Lord, did I ever ramble back then more than I do now. I would talk about how much more fun skating was when I was at football practice, but the other kids didn’t seem to agree. I didn’t get it until one of them knocked me down and called me a sissy.”

Without breaking his eye contact with the ceiling, Bitty brushed his hand against Jack’s cheek, seemingly predicting his boyfriend’s flash of anger.

“I got it then. Why Coach was so hesitant to let me skate. Why Momma worried so much. Why I was the only boy signed up for the next Junior Southeast qualifiers. There were male skaters in the Olympics, so it never occurred to me that it wasn’t something people expected boys to do. Especially in Georgia. When I came home from peewee with a black eye, Momma talked to Coach for me and let me quit. I started skating with Katya three times a week and kept my mouth shut at school.”

“I’m so sorry.” Jack couldn’t help the apology from falling from his lips.

Bitty shook his head. “It didn’t really bother me all that much. It was fun having a secret like that for a little while. I used to pretend I couldn’t tell anyone because I was actually famous and would get mobbed if anyone knew who I really was. Ha. It wasn’t something I could hide for long, though. We would drive to the rink right after school for my practices, and I had to pack my leggings and everything in my backpack. Someone saw them one day, and it spread through our tiny school that I wore girls’ clothes. They, uh, weren’t very nice about that.”

Jack frowned, partially because he could tell where the story was headed.

“I tried to explain it to them, but no one really cared enough to listen. So, I ignored it. It wasn’t fun, having names hurled at me and getting knocked into lockers, but I could forget all about that when I was out on the ice. And no one ever hurt me bad enough for it to interfere with performing. I’m not even sure Coach and Momma _knew_ what was happening back then, other than that I didn’t really have any friends.”

“They had to have guessed.” Jack offered.

“If they did, they didn’t do anything about it, which honestly feels worse. It wasn’t until Middle School that they started leaving marks behind. The insults changed, too. Stopped calling me girly and started saying I was gay like it was a bad thing. Momma saw the marks on my arm from where one of the other boys grabbed me one day and made me tell her everything. I begged her not to tell Coach, because I thought for sure he’d make me quit skating. I’m not sure if she did or not now that I think about it. Then… Then was the closet incident.”

Bitty covered his face again and breathed for a moment. Jack dropped a few soft kisses on his arm and shoulder, heart aching.

“I…I think something in me _broke_ after that. I thought for sure I was going to die in there. And somewhere in my head I, uh, made the connection that figure skating caused it. That it never would have happened if I took to football the way I took to the ice. I tried to make it through the next year of competitions because I didn’t want to throw it all away, but I couldn’t do it. I _couldn’t_.”

Bitty’s voice cracked, and Jack immediately scooped him into his arms. He still didn’t cry, though. Jack held Bitty close as he worked to take control of his breathing again, and eventually Bitty spoke again.

“We moved after that. I used that as an excuse to quit, but I hated not doing anything. I saw a flyer for the co-ed hockey team on the bulletin board out by the town hall one day, and thought it’d be a good compromise. I could still skate, it was a more masculine activity, and it was no contact. And eventually it brought me to you.”

Bitty nudged his way out of Jack’s arms and sat up.

“Thanks for telling me, Bud.”

“I’m, uh...I'm going to go take a shower.”

Jack hated how defeated Bitty sounded, but he also knew from experience how drained talking about experiences like that could leave someone. Following Bitty with his eyes, he watched him disappear into the bathroom. That conversation confirmed that Jack _was_ right about what had drawn Bitty away from figure skating, and as glad as he was that Bitty did switch to hockey, he quietly wished that Bitty didn’t have something he loved tainted like that. When Jack overdosed, he knew that it was partially due to hockey. There were definitely other factors in play— _Parse, his dad, the very nature of his anxiety disorder_ —but he got the help he needed afterward to recognize that he couldn’t let that take away something he loved. He was able to find his way back. As he listened to the soft sound of the shower, Jack absently wondered who Bitty would have become if he had gotten the same sort of help back then. He knew one thing for certain. He desperately wanted to see Bitty perform a figure skating routine in person.


	19. Bandaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the comic in the end notes. I figured out how I'm handling the divergence between this fic and canon following the December 2017 updates.

The hot stream of water hit Bitty’s chest, and he let out a soft hiss. After counting down from ten three times, his hands were still shaking from the heavy confession he made to Jack. He felt his control slip and burst into heavy sobs. His legs gave away beneath him, and Bitty found himself curled up on the floor of the shower with tears mixing with the water thundering down on top of him. His chest heaved, finding it twice as difficult to catch his breath with the hot air surrounding him, and Bitty could barely find it in him to worry if the strain was hurting his recovery. His heart pounded when he realized for half a second that he didn’t care. Bitty’s hands clenched at the short hairs on the back of his head as his pressed his forehead into his knees.

_Why couldn’t they have just left him alone?_

With his eyes still squeezed shut, Bitty wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but soon his sobs teetered off into rasping breaths and tear-streaked cheeks. Clearly it was too long, because a soft knocking sounded on the bathroom door. Jack called out to him gently, but opened the door when Bitty didn’t answer.

Bitty felt a sense of déjà vu when Jack pulled back the shower curtain. This time, he wasn’t annoyed or shouting, and Bitty wasn’t singing. Instead, he silently switched off the water. Bitty accepted his outstretched hand and let Jack pull him to his feet. He let Jack wrap a fluffy towel around him and lead him back to the bed. He didn’t seem to mind that Bitty was getting his sheets and pillows all wet, but Bitty felt a little guilty anyway.

After a moment, Jack spoke. “You can’t do that.”

Bitty, no longer crying, frowned up at him.

“You can’t shut me out. We’re a team, bud. I’m sorry you’re upset, but you have to trust me to help you.” Jack wiped a drip of water from Bitty’s forehead. “There is nothing you could tell me that would ever make love you any less.”

“It’s hard.” Bitty’s voice creaked, like he hadn’t used it in days.

“I know.”

“I’m…I’m just so scared of losing you. Like… like one day I’ll finally prove to be too much and you won’t think it’s worth it anymore. That, um… that _I’m_ not worth it.”

Jack’s heart shattered. He immediately pulled Bitty close to him in a fiercely tight embrace. Bitty squeaked softly as the sudden pressure, but he let himself latch onto the front of Jack’s shirt.

“I hate that you think that could ever happen.”

“It’s hard not to, sometimes.”

Jack pulled back just enough to meet Bitty’s eyes. “Back in the Q, the one thing I was afraid of most was never making it. Never getting to play hockey again. Never living up to the legacy my father left for me. That first year after… what happened, I thought my fears came true. Luckily, I got a second chance. But those fears followed me to Samwell. I was still terrified that I would screw it all up again and lose hockey for good this time.”

Bitty looked down, but Jack pushed his chin up with one hand so their eyes met again.

“And then I met you, and I thought you were going to be what screwed it all up for me. But I saw your potential, and I thought that if I helped you I could help keep those fears from coming true again. I didn’t expect to start to like you.”

“I could tell.” Bitty frowned, and Jack chuckled.

“But I did. I did start to like you. Somewhere along the way, I stopped worrying about losing hockey so much, and started worrying about how to make you smile. And if I should be worried by how much you made me smile.”

Pouting, Bitty poked Jack in the chest. “Charmer.”

“No, really. I mean, yeah, I still worried. I _still_ _worry_. That’s never going to leave me, and I’ve accepted that as part of who I am. I have to say though, as much as I worry about hockey, the idea of losing it doesn’t scare me as much anymore.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, bud. Don’t you want to know why I’m not too afraid of that anymore?”

Bitty paused. “Because you’ve established yourself as a strong player and have a stable spot on a team that made it into the Stanley Cup finals your rookie year?”

“Because if I ever did lose hockey, I know I’d at least have you.”

It took two seconds before Bitty processed what he said and kissed Jack soundly. Jack grinned into it, which only made Bitty grin and pull back slightly so their foreheads still touched. Jack brushed a hand along Bitty’s cheek.

“You are a ridiculous boy, Jack Zimmermann.”

“Maybe. I love you.”

Bitty flushed, even though that was nowhere near the first time he’d said so. “I love you too, sweet pea.”

“How do you feel?”

“Better. Like I should probably get dressed.” Bitty glanced down at the towel tucked around his waist.

Jack hummed and pressed a soft kiss to Bitty’s jaw. “You sure?”

“Goodness.” Bitty pushed him away and got to his feet, ignoring the deeper blush dancing across his cheeks.

The sound of Jack’s laughter followed him into the bathroom, and Bitty quickly reemerged in a pair of shorts and one of Jack’s shirts. The way Jack cut off his laughter proved he definitely noticed, but he smartly kept any comments about it to himself.

Bitty leaned over the bed, pressing his hands into the mattress and a kiss to Jack’s nose. “Do your parents have any food allergies?”

“What?”

“Allergies, Jack. Your parents. I have to make an entire Thanksgiving meal, and I am not going to embarrass myself by serving them something they can’t eat.”

Jack blinked, then cracked a grin. Bitty was clearly done with their conversation and moving on to other topics, and Jack was willing to let it drop. They had made a lot of progress in being honest with each other.

“I don’t think they have any, but I can ask and let you know.”

Bitty gave Jack a peck on the forehead. “Thank you. Now I’ve got a menu to work out.”

“You know,” Jack started, “I can help you. This is something we’re doing together.”

“I appreciate the offer, sweat pea, but you and I both know you have a hockey game every day the three days before Thanksgiving and will not have time to slave over a stove.”

He was right, but Jack still frowned. Inviting both their parents to Providence for the holiday was his idea, and he wanted to be able to help prepare everything. He knew that this would take a huge emotional toll on Bitty, given that this would be the first time he saw his parents since he came out to them, and Jack wanted to show his complete and undivided support through it all. He already spoke with his parents and explained the situation, so hopefully having them there would help ease away some of the inevitable tension. Back when they first started dating, Bitty told him about Suzanne’s tiny crush on his dad. Jack was definitely going to use that to his advantage.

“Maybe we could prepare some things ahead of time? Freezing them shouldn’t hurt anything too badly, eh?"

Bitty furrowed his eyebrows, turning the idea over in his head. “I guess. Only the casseroles, though.”

“When was the last time you made a casserole, Bits?”

“Last Christmas.” Bitty rolled his eyes at Jack’s concerned expression. “Relax. I have a massive file on my computer of all of the recipes for my Moomaw’s holiday dishes. They’re not that hard to follow.”

He huffed and let Bitty pull him out of the bed. “Okay. I’m trusting you.”

“That’s all I ask, honey.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in Jack’s kitchen, dancing around each other as they put together a few casseroles for Thanksgiving. Jack kept teasing Bitty about how half the people in attendance were _Canadian_ and didn’t even need to celebrate the holiday, even if the Zimmermanns had more or less been roped into celebrating American Thanksgiving since before Jack was even born. Jack also found it increasingly hilarious how out of his comfort zone Bitty seemed prepping the dishes. Jack had never seen Bitty pay so much attention to a recipe before, and watching him squint at his computer screen was entirely endearing in the best way. By the time their stomachs were crying out for dinner, three casserole dishes sat stacked in Jack’s freezer. They ordered Chinese, tired of cooking, and nestled together on Jack’s couch watching some lighthearted sitcom. Bitty managed to convince Jack that he could make it back to Samwell in time for his class the next morning, but Jack was secretly glad for a few extra hours with him. Eventually they stumbled sleepily off to bed and curled together under the sheets.

For once, they both slept peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Falconers did not win the Stanley Cup Jack's rookie year. Therefore, the kiss never happened and Jack is still closeted outside friends/the NHL.


	20. C & C

There were a lot of things that made Chowder glad he made the decision to go to Samwell. Farmer definitely topped the list, but she wasn’t the only thing that made the cross-country trek worth it. He had the chance to graduate from a highly competitive computer science program, found two best friends in Dex and Nursey, play on a high ranked hockey team, and got a chance to play alongside and befriend Bad Bob Zimmermann’s son. He loved California and definitely wanted to go back—he’d already started talking to Jack about trying to get drafted for the NHL with his heart set on playing for the Sharks—but now he couldn’t imagine ever not moving to Massachusetts.

Chowder had never said anything, but part of that decision was because of Bitty. The rest of the team knew Chowder watched Bitty’s vlogs. They lamented the fact that Bitty refused to fork over his YouTube handle, and Chris knew better than to pass along the information and get on Bitty’s bad side. He essentially told them he found them while hunting down information about Samwell, but in actuality the opposite was more the truth. Of course, he’d heard of Samwell before Bitty mentioned the school he was accepted to. It was nationally ranked, after all. He’d briefly considered applying before the idea of moving that far from home made him back down.

But then the guy who ran the baking vlog he liked to watch while he did homework mentioned it. And Chowder couldn’t stop thinking about Samwell.

He applied. Got accepted. And everything about it seemed _right_.

Of course, Chowder didn’t decide to go to Samwell _because_ one Eric Bittle was enrolled there. It was like when he toppled into Cait during a piggyback race with the team. Fate called to him. He already decided not to say anything about it to anyone, though, because he didn’t want to come across as creepy. Not like the truth behind the situation mattered.

Being privy to Bitty’s vlogging persona had its perks, though.

“Now, most stores sell pre-mixed pumpkin spice, but I like to mix up my own to get the flavor to really stand out.” Bitty leaned against the Haus kitchen counter, making eye contact with his video camera.

Chowder perched at the table out of frame and devoured a bag of gummy bears while Bitty narrated. He was the only one allowed to watch Bitty record, seemingly because he’d only watch the videos later anyway. Aside from the two of them downstairs, the rest of the Haus was empty.

Soon enough, Bitty finished what he wanted to get done that day and shut the camera off with a soft sigh.

“Are you sure y’all are fine with having Hausgiving a few days early this year?”

Chowder nodded. “Oh, yeah. We get that this is important for you and Jack, so it’s not a huge deal or anything. Plus, this means that more of us can actually make it since they can always head home like Monday or something.”

“Y’all are too good to me.”

“I don’t know about that.” Chowder shrugged. “You do a lot for us, Bitty. Like, more than you should probably. The least we can do is be a little flexible… well. Lenient. I’m always _flexible_ , but that’s beside the point.”

Bitty snorted. “We’re all aware of your ability to jump into a split, honey.”

“Good. It’s definitely one of my best traits.”

They were silent for a beat before Chowder remembered something and spoke again.

“Hey, I have a question. Did you ever give Jack a link to your vlog?”

Frowning, Bitty paused in cleaning up from shooting. “Not exactly. I’ve sent him a few individual videos, but it’s not something that ever really comes up.”

“So…I’m still the only one who’s seen them? I mean, aside from all your other subscribers.”

“I suppose. I doubt anyone on this team—or formerly so—could hide it from me if they did somehow manage to track it down.”

Chowder poked his tongue at a piece of gummy candy that got lodged in his braces. “Probably. You do talk about all of us a lot. Not more than pie or anything, so don’t worry about if you’re straying too far from your brand or anything.”

“My brand, honestly.” Bitty huffed and rolled his eyes. “Chirp me all you like, Chow, but I know for a fact y’all love it when I shower you in affection.”

“And baked goods.”

“Well, that goes without saying.”

Chowder watched Bitty move around the kitchen with practiced ease, knowing exactly which drawer or cabinet each item belonged in. It struck him suddenly that Bitty would leave them soon. They’d have to figure out how to manage everything by themselves, and Chowder wasn’t sure who would fill the enormous space Bitty would surely leave. It was hard when Jack and Shitty graduated, but Ransom and Holster were always able to command a space with ease. When they left, Bitty shined brighter than ever, and he filled the Haus with even more warmth. Chowder didn’t even want to think about that hominess disappearing.

“I hate that you have to leave us. We’re all going to miss you so much, and it’s totally awful.”

Bitty blinked at him, but quickly a sad smile snuck across his face. “Oh sweetheart, I’m going to miss y’all too. But don’t you worry. I won’t be far, and I’ll make my way back on over here often.”

“Wait, really?” Chowder grinned a bit. He had been worried Bitty would move back to Georgia after graduation, and they’d never see him again except on computer screens.

Dumping the last few dishes into the dishwasher, Bitty straightened up rigidly like he just realized he might have said more than he should have. He sighed and relaxed his shoulders before turning back to face Chowder.

“Well, I suppose y’all were going to find out eventually. I’m, uh, actually moving in with Jack after I graduate.”

“Oh my god, really? S’wasome! You guys are so perfect for each other and I’m so glad that things are going well!”

Bitty grinned. “They really are, aren’t they?”

“I mean, yeah. I sort of figured you would because you guys played so well together, so it only makes senses you two get along so well _off_ the ice too. By the way, have you thought about what you’re going to do in Providence? You should totally open your own bakery.”

“Oh. Uh.” Bitty blinked and fumbled with his hands a bit. “I, uh, actually have no idea. I mean, it would be pretty neat to open a bakery, but I don’t really know how I’d go about it. And, like, I know my pies have won their share of blue ribbons, but I don’t know if that would be enough to actually turn a profit, you know?”

Chowder stared at him. “Bitty. Every single member of this hockey team would murder for your pies. Except for maybe Whiskey? I don’t know. I can’t get a read on him.”

At that, Bitty laughed. What Chowder said did little to actually ease his anxiety about his post-graduation plans, but the thought of a squadron of hockey players on a pie crusade left a fantastic image in his head. Bitty would figure it out when he got there. For the time being, he needed to focus on recovering from his injury and passing all his classes first. And if he was being honest with himself, he was definitely more focused on getting back out on the ice. There was a part of Bitty that wanted to carry the team all the way to the Frozen Four—like Jack did—but he felt like this setback meant that if they did make it, it wouldn’t be because of his leadership. Really, he’d be proud of them regardless. It still hurt though.


	21. Icing the Wound

Nursey accompanied Ford to Bitty’s ice skating coaching the next day. This was going to be the last one before they took a week off for Thanksgiving, so Bitty tried to stay focused to get his kids where they needed to be. They had another week afterwards to prepare before they needed to start doing dress rehearsals. None of the kids had arrived yet, so Bitty was circling the ice absently to kill time. He occasionally pushed up into a jump—he liked salchows the best; he’d always been good at them—but tried not to overdo it like he did on that first day of practice. 

“Hey, Bitty.” Nursey was sitting on the wall between the ice and the bench, his shoes barely brushing the ice. “Don’t you have a pair of figure skates? Like, I don’t know that much about figure skating, but all those jumps have got to be hard in hockey skates.”

Bitty skated back over to Nursey and slid to stop. “I used to. But when I stopped competing I ended up selling them so I could afford the hockey skates. It didn’t really make sense for me to have both, you know?”

“Still, shit’s got to be rough.”

“I mean, yeah. It can be hard on my ankles, but I’m doing demonstrations of routines made for elementary schoolers, so it isn’t that annoying. Now if I attempted a _quad_ I would definitely hurt myself. And not just because I am horribly out of practice.”

“Oh. Cool.”

Bitty pushed off from the low barrier and glided back out to center ice. He looped casual figure eights around the arena and caught himself thinking again about the ‘what ifs’ he tried so hard to ignore. He only successfully landed a quadruple salchow once, and it was when he was thirteen and during practice with Katya. She was so _proud_ of him the memory of it hurt, and she had told him that if he kept it up she might have let him include it in a program when he was fifteen. Of course, he never made it that far. At the time, he convinced himself that it was fluke, and honestly it probably was. That was when life started hitting him hardest and was when he started giving up on himself. If he had just been stronger, he might have been the first fifteen year old to land a quadruple salchow in competition. But instead he had to fuck it all up for himself.

Eric ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. He couldn’t let himself fall down that path of self-deprecation right then. Not when he had a job to do. He would focus on his kids for the next two hours, then he would focus on last minute adjustments to his Thanksgiving preparations, and only after he was tucked up in bed in the dark would he let his mind sink into any dark corner that it wanted to entertain.

“Mr. B! I’m here!” Amanda hurried out on to the ice and collided lightly with Bitty to give him a hug. “I’ve been practicing my lutz! Do you want to see?”

He laughed and hugged her back as best he could without crouching. “Amanda? Uh, after warm-ups, okay? The showcase is coming up fast, and I don’t want you to risk hurting yourself.”

“Okay!”

“I want to talk to you though, alright?”

“Oh, uh. Alright.” She scrambled off to start her stretches while the rest of the group trickled into Faber.

Michael waved hesitantly at Bitty before gliding over to join Amanda. He was still as quiet and serious as the day he first met Bitty, but he had definitely opened up. Dorothy, Kat, and Grace joined them next after yelling out their greetings to Bitty. He made eye contact with Nursey, who smirked at him, before rolling his eyes and joining his kids.

“Okay, I want you guys to focus on transitions today.” Bitty said after everyone properly stretched. “You’ve all done really well so far with each individual piece of your programs, but we haven’t had a lot of time to put it all together yet. I’m not expecting y’all to pull off a full run-through today, but we definitely need to start piecing them together. Michael, Dorothy? Y’all are the ones with jump combinations, so I want you to work on pushing yourselves through those while I’m not focusing on you individually.”

Michael nodded while Dorothy called out a “Gotcha!” and they both skated off to their own little sections of the ice.

Bitty turned to the twins next. “Alright, you two. A big part of your program is staying in sync, and you’ve got that transition from a scratch spin into a salchow. I need you both to go ahead and try to get that synced transition to line up while I chat with Amanda, okay?”

“Okay Mr. B!”

“We’ll get it on the first try!”

Kat and Grace shuffled off, and Bitty turned his attention on Amanda. She was shuffling nervously on her skates, like knew what Bitty was going to say.

“You missed practice yesterday.”

“I know, I’m so so sorry.”

Bitty could hear the sadness in her voice, and his expression softened. “What happened?”

“I had to miss practice because my mom took us down to Smithfield to look at houses. She’s transferring to Bryant after the school year’s over. I don’t want to leave Samwell.”

“Oh, honey. It’ll be okay.”

She shook her head. “No, it won’t. I liked being coached by Mrs. Murray, but now I’m going to have to either find a new coach or give skating up because the commute to here would be too much, and I really like skating, Mr. B.”

“I know how you feel. But I’m sure you’ll find someone. I mean, getting a new coach isn’t the end of the world. I’ve been filling in for Mrs. Murray for a few weeks now, and that hasn’t been completely awful, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” She frowned.

Bitty’s heart broke for the girl. He remembered how hard it was moving away from Katya, even if he had already made his decision to quit skating. He had no idea where Smithfield or Bryant were, but he figured it was at least still in the Northeast, which meant it would be a lot easier for her to find someone than if Bitty tried searching for a new coach back in Georgia. Not to mention, Amanda was very good. She’d been an absolute delight to coach in the short time he’d spent with her. Jack said he remembered her mother, too, when Bitty mentioned she was a Professor in the history department at Samwell. He’d have to let him know that she was transferring away.

“Come on.” Bitty ruffled Amanda’s hair. “Show me that lutz you were so excited about earlier.”

Her face lit up. “So you aren’t mad?”

“No, sweetheart. Promise you’ll give me a heads up if you ever have to miss practice again, though. Okay?”

“I will!”

Bitty watched as she skated a little ways away and eased herself into a clean double lutz. She had definitely been working hard at it, and her perseverance showed. He remembered how wobbly she was when she first demonstrated the jump in front of him, and he felt a rush of pride.

Whoever she got as a new coach would be lucky to have her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment and thank everyone who has commented on this fic so far! (especially those of you who have commented on every chapter. I see you and I love you.) I'm so glad so many of you have found something you like in this fic, and I definitely reread what you've said a few times. 
> 
> I'd love to hear your theories on where I'm going with this, though! I'll give you one hint: it's going to go on through Bitty's graduation for sure.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading <3<3


	22. Hausgiving '16

“Now you stop your worrying, sweet pea. You’ve got to stay focused for your game tonight.”

Bitty cradled his phone against his cheek while double checking that he wasn’t accidentally burning the food warming in the Haus oven.

“I wish I could be there, though.” Jack sighed softly. “Ironic that I’m closer to Georgia than you are right now.”

“The Canes won’t know what hit them. Score a goal for me?”

“Always.”

The sound of shouting echoed into the kitchen from the hall. Bitty frowned and glanced toward the door, concerned that something serious was happening. He scooped up one of the pies he finished earlier and carried it over the fridge, even though his attention wasn’t on it or his call with Jack. It sounded like Dex and Nursey again.

“I’m sorry, Jack, honey. I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

He could hear the smile in Jack’s voice. “Go wrangle your team, Bits. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Bitty set his phone down and used his free hand to nestle the pie into the refrigerator. Double checking that there wasn’t anything left in the kitchen that needed his immediate attention, he leaned in the doorway and watched the D-man pair argue.

“I don’t understand why you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.”

“Dex, bro, we live together. You’d think you’d get used to my constant presence by now.”

“Do you seriously not see anything wrong with what you just said?”

“Nah. You seem wicked stressed, though.”

Dex let out a frustrated scream and buried his face in his hands. From where he was leaning on the stair banister, Nursey raised an amused eyebrow.

“You know, for someone who spouts a lot of bullshit, you get angry over the weirdest things.”

Dex lifted his head and blinked. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean, like, not necessarily in your everyday speech, but you have this nasty habit of spewing some seriously offensive swill on the ice and when you’re watching stuff. Like, we’ve definitely had a feelings jam over that, and you’re getting better about it, but you do that, and then turn around and lose your head when I just _sit next to you_ while you’re reading.” Nursey shrugged.

“It was _my_ bed, and you didn’t even _ask_.”

Bitty rolled his eyes and stepped fully out of the kitchen. “Am I going to have to force you both to help me for the rest of the morning, or can you not kill each other for a little while?”

“Do you need help?” Dex glanced up. The look in his eye was hopeful, but Bitty could still see how hesitant he was.

“I haven’t started on the Derby pie yet if you want to do that for me.”

Dex glanced at Nursey, who flashed him a confused look, but then ducked past Bitty and into the kitchen. Bitty could hear Dex start to move around and gather the ingredients he needed, and watched as realization dawned on Nursey’s face.

“Come on, Derek. Let’s find you something to keep you out of trouble.”

Nursey followed Bitty dazedly into the kitchen. He watched as Dex expertly added ingredients the way Bitty taught him, and for a few moments the three stood in the kitchen silently.

“Uh, aren’t you going to, like, direct him or something?” Nursey whispered. Everyone on the hockey team had helped Bitty out in the kitchen before, but Bitty had always fired off directions with the same authority he had as captain.

Bitty shook his head and smirked. “No. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Oh. Cool.”

Dex’s shoulders tensed. “I don’t want to hear it, Nurse.”

“What? Nah, this is actually really cool. You never cease to surprise me, Poindexter.”

“Oh.”

Bitty chuckled a bit and nudged Nursey over to a free spot on the counters. He pulled some fresh vegetables and a few other containers from the refrigerator and dropped them in front of the bewildered frog.

Handing him a knife and a cutting board, Bitty smiled. “Think you can safely put together a relish tray?”

“Uh, yeah.”

About an hour before the Hausgiving meal was supposed to be served, Chowder wandered into the kitchen and immediately grinned at the sight of Dex and Nursey working together in the kitchen. Bitty beckoned Chowder over to where he was kneeling in front of the open oven.

Chowder peered over Bitty’s shoulder, and his mouth watered at the scent of the various dishes warming inside.

“These ain’t my specialty, but I think they’ll turn out okay.” Bitty adjusted one of the dishes absently with an oven mitt clad hand.

Chowder wiggled a bit with excitement. “I can’t wait!”

Soon enough, Shitty, Ransom, Holster, and Lardo piled into the Haus with loud greetings and big hugs for everyone. The non-resident hockey members filed in after, and Chowder abandoned his seat on the couch between Nursey and Ford to enthusiastically greet Framer. Bitty watched as everyone chatted and caught up, and he was suddenly glad he decided to still host Hausgiving despite that he’ll have to turn around and do the same thing in less than a couple days. After admitting their thanks, they sat down where they could and dug into the spread. Bitty received many compliments on his cooking, which he accepted with a blush and a wave, and Dex actually took credit for his portion of the baking, receiving many compliments as well. It was almost funny how red his face was by the end of the night.

As night settled over the hockey house, Bitty escaped the warm glow inside to cool off a bit on the front porch. He nursed a glass of cheap wine and found himself thinking about the next few days with a combination of excitement and fear. This would be the first time he saw his parents since he finally told them the truth, and despite the good terms they seem to be on, it made him a little apprehensive. He took solace in the fact that Jack and his parents would be there for a little while as well, so the attention wouldn’t wholly be on him.

Nursey cleared his throat. “Hey, Bitty?”

Bitty started. He didn’t even realize Nursey was out there he was so lost in his own thoughts. Taking another sip of his wine, Bitty looked over at him with a questioning look on his face.

“Does Dex actually hate me?”

“Oh, of course not, honey.” Bitty crossed to the other side of the porch and leaned against the railing by Nursey. “He just doesn’t know what to do with you.”

He sighed. “I thought sharing a room with him would be hilarious, you know? He so easy to rile up, and I definitely have fun doing it. But I feel like he resents me now because of it. And like, I feel like we’re friends sometimes, but other times it’s like he looks at me like he wishes I didn’t exist.”

“You can’t force people to like you, Derek. Although I do think Dex still considers you a friend. He may get annoyed at you, but I think part of that’s because you guys don’t really communicate that well.”

“What do you mean? We talk a lot.”

Bitty shook his head. “I don’t mean you don’t talk. It’s more that… Ugh. It’s like… Dex likes his space. He wants to get started on something and then get left alone so he can finish it. And although he’d never admit it and kill me if he knew I said anything to you about it, he’s like a big marshmallow underneath. He takes being teased really seriously, which is why he lashes out at you so much.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“If you really want to make things work, keep that in mind. When I get a chance, I should talk to him about you too. He definitely needs to learn that you don’t hate him either.”

Nursey laughed softly and ruffled Bitty’s hair, much to his annoyance. “You’re good at this, Cap.”

“Yeah, yeah. So long as y’all keep up the synergy y’all have on the ice I’m happy.” Bitty pushed Nursey’s hand away and downed the rest of his wine.

After a moment of silence Nursey pushed himself away from the railing. “I’m going to go inside and see if there’s any pie left.”

“Good luck.”

Suddenly alone, Bitty took a moment to inhale the cool night air. Things were going to work out okay as long as he believed they would. Thinking back to what he told Nursey, he realized that he probably needed to remember similar things. His parents didn’t hate him. No matter what they said while they were up in Providence for the holiday, Bitty knew they still loved him. He knew anything they said came from a place of misunderstandings—not hatred. He didn’t have to be afraid of them. They loved him. Despite everything.


	23. Perchance to Dream

The apartment in Providence always seemed a little sad when Bitty was there without Jack. Evidence of life was everywhere but always a few days old. Stale. An open newspaper dated the week before. Rinsed dishes by the sink that had been dry for a few days. Clean laundry pulled out of the dryer that Jack never got a chance to fold properly. The barest hint of dust along the countertops.

Bitty didn’t let himself dwell on the lonely thoughts dancing in the back of his mind, though. He hauled his duffle off to Jack’s room and got to work making the apartment a little more presentable. Jack had another game that afternoon, and then he would fly back in time for one late night to themselves before Bitty’s parents arrived the next morning. Then the game in Boston, which Bitty hoped would keep Coach and Suzanne in an upbeat mood. In the meantime, he ignored how it felt like _everything_ was riding on the next few days going well.

Luckily, Jack didn’t leave too much for Bitty to do to prepare the apartment for the Bittles. He soon found himself humming along to something poppy as he mixed together enough dough for four pies, and the familiarity of it helped to ground him against any lingering sparks of anxiety. As the dough chilled, Bitty set up his camera to record while he put together a relatively simple apple crisp. It wasn’t the _most_ holiday appropriate dish, but he couldn’t post a pumpkin pie tutorial to his vlog every year. He did have a viewership to maintain.

And if he rambled a little too much about spending the holidays with his boyfriend, he doubted anyone would mind.

Long after the sun slipped past the horizon, Bitty sat wrapped in a blanket on one of the couches and had his full attention focused on editing, knowing a near perfect lemon meringue pie chilled in the refrigerator for when Jack found his way home. Only two slices remained of the pizza he ordered himself for dinner, and the box took up most of the space on the coffee table.

“ _Keep the slices as—eep the slices as—keep—_ “ Bitty’s voice repeated out of his computer’s speakers as he adjusted his voiceover to match the demonstration clip, and he winced. He never hated his voice more than when it repeated the same short phrases repeatedly while he was editing.

After an itch on his chest distracts him one too many times, Bitty shuts his laptop with a huff. He lifted the collar of the hoodie he stole from Jack’s closet and glared down at the compression vest as if that alone would stop the seams from scratching against his skin every time he shifted. He spent the morning in the hospital for his six weeks injury check, and while the doctor said Bitty was healing well, they seemed concerned about the physical activity coaching brought and wanted him to wear the vest to reduce movement and help discourage any further damage. So far, he hated it.

For not the first time, Bitty silently cursed the Cornell player who caused his injury in the first place. He had to keep reminding himself that he did sustain a severe injury because it started to become so easy to forget. His painkillers kept any soreness away, and taking them at regular intervals had quickly become a mindless routine. The only thing he really noticed was the restlessness he felt from cutting _way_ down on his usual workout routine and the slight breathlessness he now suffered when he did a little too much during figure skating practice.

They made him promise he would only take it off to sleep and shower though, so he resigned himself to his new life of itchiness. Bitty held onto the hopeful thought that if he did what the doctors asked, he would be back in uniform sooner rather than later. He hated to admit it, but spending half the season off the ice left him with guilt that slowly ate away at him with each passing practice and game. His boys never made him feel like he was letting them down, but he was still the captain. While this definitely gave Ollie and Wicks and Chowder a chance to lead some decisions on the ice, Bitty found himself frustrated with his inability to be there for his team. An itchy compression vest had nothing on _that_.

With any luck, he’d be in a no-contact jersey before the end of the year.

The sound of keys in the lock caused Bitty to perk up from where he’d slumped down on the couch. Jack eased inside with his tie undone and shirt partially unbuttoned, looking utterly exhausted. The Falconers lost in overtime to the Flyers, but for once the weariness in his eyes wasn’t plagued by the sad tint his anxiety liked to give them after a rough loss. Bitty felt a swell of pride over how far Jack had come since they first met and pushed himself to wrap Jack in a hug. Jack kissed him softly in response, but they broke apart when Jack had to yawn.

“Hey, Bits.” He smiled softly.

Bitty stepped back and helped ease Jack out of his suit coat. “Hey, sweet pea. You look dead on your feet. Let’s get you to bed.”

“But I wanted to spend time with you…”

“We have all morning tomorrow, and you need your sleep. You played so well today.”

“Yeah?” Jack knocked off his shoes as he let Bitty nudge him towards his bedroom.

“Yeah. I’m so proud of you.”

He grinned sleepily before accepting the pajamas Bitty pushing into his arms and ducking into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. By the time he reemerged, Bitty had cleaned up the mess he made in the common area and changed into more comfortable sleepwear. He ducked into the bathroom to brush his teeth before climbing into bed next to Jack. They curled together under the sheets, and Bitty played with the hem of Jack’s shirt sleeve, still too awake to fall asleep. Jack drifted a bit as he fought to stay awake in an attempt to spend a little bit longer with Bitty before sleep overtook him. It was soft and domestic and Bitty loved that they were able to have moments like those despite their conflicting chaotic schedules.

Suddenly, Bitty froze.

Jack blinked sleepily at him and slurred his words a bit as he spoke. “What is it, Bits?”

“Where am I going to sleep?”

“What? Here. My bed. You’re sleeping here.”

Bitty propped himself up on one elbow and shook his head. “No, not tonight. Tomorrow and the rest of the week.”

“Why wouldn’t you sleep here? You always sleep here.” Jack pulled at Bitty to relax back onto the mattress again.

“Jack, no. Your parents are staying in a hotel because that’s what they always do when they visit. My parents are staying in your guest room. And obviously, _you’ll_ sleep in your bed. But I have no idea where I’m sleeping now. Oh my god, I have to sleep on the couch.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, Bits.” Jack pouted, clearly too tired to fully comprehend what Bitty meant. “You’ll sleep here, with me, like you always do.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My parents are here, Jack. I can’t share a bed with you while my parents are here.”

Jack sighed. “I thought the benefit of telling them about us what that we didn’t have to hide our relationship anymore.”

“If anything, that just means I definitely am going to have to sleep on the couch.” Bitty bemoaned his fate, flopping back down onto his pillow.

Taking advantage, Jack pulled Bitty into his chest. “We shared a room in Madison, Bits. We can share a room now.”

“But they didn’t know we were dating then, otherwise that would have never been allowed. That’s one of the first things my mother brought up, and I’m still mortified. Jack, you’ve met my parents. I can’t.”

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch. Sleep now.”

“I can’t let you do that, sweet pea. You have work, and George will kill me if she finds out that’s why you’re stiff all through your next few games.” Bitty’s voice was muffled by Jack’s shirt.

Jack simply squeezed Bitty a little tighter in response. “We’ll figure it out later. Sleep.”

“Okay, yeah. You’re exhausted. We can talk in the morning.”

“Love you.”

Bitty couldn’t help the little grin that snuck onto his face. “I love you too, Jack.”

Sleep didn’t come for him until well after Jack’s breathing evened out and his arms relaxed their grip. Bitty kept turning the small blip in their plans over in his mind until it blossomed into a long list of everything that could possibly go wrong over the next couple of days. Despite the comfort Jack’s presence brought him, he drifted off with a frown and a mind stuffed full of worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Falconers' Thanksgiving Game Schedule:
> 
> Sunday: @ North Carolina 6pm  
> Monday: @ Philadelphia 3pm  
> Tuesday: off  
> Wednesday: @ Boston 7:30pm  
> Thursday: off  
> Friday: vs. Houston 7pm  
> Saturday: vs. Detroit 6pm


	24. Thanksgiving (Part 1)

Jack woke to a stretch of cold sheets where Bitty should have been. His phone told him that it was only a little after eight, but it meant that his boyfriend switched off his morning alarm at some point. Jack must have looked more tired than he thought when he stumbled into the apartment late that night before. He still had time for a quick run before the Bittles were due to arrive, though, and he figured he could convince Bitty to join him as payback. He knew Bitty couldn’t do much still because of his injury, but a short jog at a slow pace should be well within the doctor’s limits.

A crash from the kitchen drew him the rest of the way out of bed and down the hall to the kitchen, and he stood in the doorway watching Bitty intently empty the dishwasher. By the time he caught sight of Jack, he’d moved into Bitty’s space and plucked the pan from his hands. Jack quickly distracted Bitty from the interruption by dropping a few soft kisses on his neck and cheek.

“Morning, sweet pea. Did you sleep okay?”

Jack set the dish on the counter and tugged Bitty away from the chore. “You turned my alarm off.”

“You needed your sleep.”

“True,” He hummed in agreement, “but I still should go for a run before your parents get here.”

Bitty sighed at the mention of his parents. “Then go run. I’ll finish things here, okay?”

“Nope. You’re coming with me.”

“Jack, I can’t—“

He cut Bitty off. “Then we won’t run. We can jog. Walk. I want you to come with me, though.”

“Well…” He frowned, clearly torn between spending time with Jack and finishing preparing for his parents’ arrival.

“We have plenty of time to do all that later. We go for a light jog, come back and shower, and then finish cleaning up. Plus, it’ll give us time to talk a bit.” Jack gently spun Bitty so they were facing each other. “Say yes? I miss you, Bits.”

“How could I say no when you ask so nicely?”

Jack pumped his fist and grinned, causing Bitty to laugh and roll his eyes. They changed into more appropriate attire, and Jack’s eyes caught on Bitty’s compression vest, noting the new addition. He knew the injury still bothered Bitty, though, so he chose not to mention it. They easily fell into step at a slow jog and spent a few minutes enjoying the comfortable silence between them. Jack’s instincts were urging him to move faster, and he could tell by the way Bitty kept adjusting his fingers that he was feeling the same itch, but they kept it slow to accommodate Bitty’s fracture. By the time they reached the bench along the river that marked Jack’s turnaround point, neither of them were close to winded. The park was mostly empty, with only a few other joggers in the distance.

Jack slowed to a stop but paused before guiding them back to the apartment. “Hey.”

Bitty glanced inquisitively at him.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“Jack—“

“And neither am I. It’s ridiculous for either of us to sleep on the couch when I have a perfectly good bed that more than accommodates the both of us.”

Bitty sighed. “I don’t want to push things with my parents, though. I feel like that would be asking too much.”

“Bits, I love your parents, but they can get over it. They have to learn to trust you to make your own decisions.”

“I’m already asking so much of them, Jack.”

“You’re _not_ , though. You’re asking them to accept who you are, which is something they should _already do_. I thought the whole upside of telling them the truth was not having to hide anymore. If it really makes you uncomfortable, I won’t force you, but I think you’re only scaring yourself.”

After a few moments of tense silence, Bitty sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m making this a bigger deal than it actually is.”

“You definitely are. It’ll be okay. And honestly if you’re worried about your parents recognizing that we _might_ have sexual side to our relationship, you should be more concerned about some of the things my parents are going to comment on in front of them.”

“Oh my god.” Bitty paled. “You’re right. This is going to be a disaster.”

Jack laughed and nudged Bitty to start jogging again. “Or, it’ll be embarrassing and hilarious. I wish I could do something to convince you that your parents aren’t going to suddenly start hating you.”

“I’ve been so afraid of them finding out for years, Jack. It’s a hard thing to shake.”

“I know, bud.” He leaned closer to Bitty to whisper into his ear while they ran. “Do you want me to ask my dad to casually flirt with your mom to break the tension?”

“ _Don’t you dare—_ if only because I know for a _fact_ he would definitely do it.”

Jack laughed again. “It’s because he loves you. They both do.”

“I know.” Bitty nudged him with his elbow. “But that’s mostly because _you_ love me.”

“I really do.” He looked down at Bitty with soft eyes, and Bitty flushed softly.

Avoiding Jack’s eyes, he muttered, “I love you too.”

They make it back to Jack’s apartment with plenty of time to spare, so they take their time relaxing in the shower before taking care of any last minute chores. After Bitty received a text from his mother saying that their plane landed and that Coach was getting the rental car, he and Jack settled around the island in the kitchen with a few slices of the lemon meringue pie they didn’t get a chance to try the night before.

Jack was cleaning their dishes when a knock sounded on the front door. Bitty instinctually froze from his seat on the countertop. Elbow deep in soap suds, Jack glanced expectantly at him.

“Oh, uh, I guess I’ll get that.” Bitty hopped down and eased out of the kitchen.

Without realizing he was doing it, Bitty steeled himself. His parents were on the other side of the door, and he hadn’t seen them since before he came out to them. Since he officially took their expectations of him and chucked them out the window. _They love me. They love me._ He repeated it in his head like a silent mantra before opening the door.

“Hey, Momma. Hey, Coach.”

Suzanne immediately wrapped him in a tight hug, while Coach eased in behind her and shut the door. They stood like that for a short while, and for a moment Bitty forgot why he was so worried.

His mom pulled back and studied his face. “Oh, I’ve missed you fiercely, Dicky.”

“I’ve missed you guys too. I, uh, I’m glad y’all could make it up here.”

“How’s the chest, Junior?” Coach pulled Bitty into a brief, awkward hug before sliding his hands back into the pockets of his jeans.

Bitty smiled softly. “Healing. I had an appointment yesterday and they put me in a compression vest for a while to try and help things a bit.”

“Good. You’ve got to make sure you take care of yourself.”

“I do, Coach.”

Jack chose then to join them in the main room, and Bitty saw the smiles on his parents’ faces falter slightly. He felt his stomach clench a little. If Jack noticed it, he didn’t say anything. He instead shook Coach’s hand in greeting and accepted Suzanne’s brief hug.

“Jack! We saw your game yesterday. I swear, Rick gets more and more invested with each passing game.”

Coach chuckled a bit and shrugged. “What can I say? You boys certainly know how to engage a crowd.”

“We try to remember that hockey’s supposed to be fun, and I think the rest follows.” Jack used his interview voice, and Bitty winced internally.

They made awkward small talk on the couches until Bitty’s stomach started growling in search of lunch. Jack suggested they walk down to the little sandwich shop he and Bitty liked, and no one objected. The success they had so far had Bitty hoping that the rest of the week would go just as well. Lunch passed by without incident, and Bitty felt himself relaxing in a way he hadn’t been able to in months. He begrudgingly accepted that Jack was probably right about Bitty being overly concerned for no real reason.

Of course, those thoughts all crumbled when Bitty caught his parents’ hesitant glances when Jack leaned over to press a kiss on his temple. Things were only going as well as they were because they weren’t being obvious about it. Bitty bit his lip and stamped down the urge to cry.


	25. Thanksgiving (Part 2)

By the time everyone started getting hungry again, Bitty took the opportunity to slip off to the kitchen to breathe. He felt a little bad about abandoning Jack with his parents, but he needed a few minutes to clear his head and talk himself down from his skyrocketing stress levels. It helped that they already knew Jack. It helped that he was a highly successful athlete. It helped that they seemed to be trying. Bitty had carefully logged his parents’ reactions to things as they talked, trying to get a feel for how much they’d adjusted to the new situation. So far, it seemed positive. They were obviously a little uncomfortable, but Bitty could tell they wanted to be supportive.

He just needed to remember to keep breathing.

As he started pulling out ingredients for pasta, Suzanne wandered into the kitchen to watch him. Bitty swallowed around a lump in his throat and tried to make it seem like he wasn’t terrified she was going to yell at him.

“Dicky?” Instead her voice was soft and tinged with a hint of worry. “Do you want any help?”

He glanced back at her. “I mean, there’s not a whole lot to do, but, uh, some company would be nice.”

“Alright.”

She watched as Bitty expertly moved around the kitchen. With the pasta in the boiling water, he turned his focus on stirring the sauce together in adjacent pan.

Suzanne spoke up again to break the silence. “Honestly, I’ve never seen your Daddy so tickled to talk sports before. It’s definitely something different when you’re faced with a real live professional.”

“Yeah, although I feel like I forget that sometimes. It’s always weird whenever we’re out and someone comes up to get his autograph or something.”

“So,” she paused, “you two go _out_ together?”

He set the stirring spoon on the counter and turned to face his mother, arms crossed loosely across his chest. “Yeah, but not _out_ out. We aren’t really sure when Jack will come out publicly yet, so we keep things relatively quiet. I mean, the Falcs all know about us, but…” Bitty shrugged.

Suzanne frowned. “And that’s not hard on you at all?”

“Momma, no offense, but I’ve been hiding this kind of thing for years. I wish we didn’t have to, but I’d rather be with Jack and hide than not at all.”

“You seem really happy, honey. A little stressed, but happy.”

“I am, Momma.”

“That’s really all your Daddy and I want for you.” She reached out and pressed a hand to Bitty’s cheek. “I admit, I’m still sorting this out in my head, but I want you to know that any qualms we have are all on our part. I don’t want you to hide things from me.”

Bitty sighed into her touch, and he felt like he was thirteen again. Only this time, it wasn’t the bullies that had him running scared. She gave his cheek a soft pat before dropping her hand down to his shoulder. Both his parents still had a ways to go on their path to accepting Bitty, but they were trying, and the thought warmed his heart a bit.

“I don’t want to hide things from you. I never did. It was just…hard.”

“I know, honey, but promise me you’ll try? We all can.” She smiled at him, but there were still faint traces of worry in her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned back to stir both the pasta and the sauce before pulling some breadsticks out of the freezer and laying them out on a sheet pan. “These are going to need a few minutes, but could you let Coach and Jack know that dinner will be ready soon?”

Suzanne nodded and stepped out of the kitchen, giving Bitty a moment alone once again. They ended up watching a few movies during and after dinner, and he could tell that their talk in the kitchen seemed to help Suzanne relax a little more. However, Bitty felt the more and more the opposite the later it got. Despite his talk with Jack that morning, Bitty still had his hang ups on sharing just how comfortable he and Jack were with his parents. He thought back to what his mother told him, though, and pushed away his insecurities.

Bitty poked Jack’s arm with his finger. “Hey, you’ve got another long day tomorrow, so we should get to bed.”

Jack quirked an eyebrow at Bitty’s use of the word ‘we,’ but Bitty shot him a look that let him know that he’d made his peace with it.

“Yeah, probably.” Jack pushed himself up and turned to Rick and Suzanne. “Do you, uh, need anything before we head off?”

Coach shook his head. “I think we’ll be alright. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night Coach. Night Momma.” Bitty hopped up to follow Jack before they could say anything.

He could barely hear Coach ask _“Where is Dicky going?”_ followed by a soft _“Rick”_ and a quiet _“Oh”_ before quickly shutting Jack’s bedroom door behind him. A blush crept across his face, much to Jack’s amusement. He took the opportunity to pull Bitty close to him and press their lips together for the first time since that morning.

“Hi.” Bitty clutched at Jack’s shirt.

“I’ve missed you.”

“We’ve been sitting next to each other all day, you ridiculous boy.”

Jack hummed and gave Bitty a few more soft kisses. “You haven’t let me touch you all day, though, and I hate that a part of you still wants to hide from them.”

“I’m working on it, sweet pea.”

“I know.” He frowned. “I’m not trying to push you or anything, if that’s what that sounded like. I know this is a process.”

Bitty urged them both toward the bathroom to change and brush their teeth, but they soon found themselves curled together under the bed sheets. Despite the worries tugging at the back of Bitty’s mind from knowing that his parents were in the next room over, he let himself relax into the warmth of Jack’s side. Sleep quickly claimed them both.

By the time Jack got back from his run the next morning, the three Bittles had congregated in the kitchen around the coffee maker. Bitty passed him a full mug, which was accepted gratefully, and Jack barely stopped himself from affectionately pressing his forehead into Bitty’s bedhead. Being overly affectionate in front of his parents still bothered him, so Jack did his best not to make him uncomfortable. He had apparently walked in on a conversation about the renovations being done on the high school in Madison. Bitty clearly had his opinions on the sorry state of the school—“I can’t _believe_ they took so long to replace the tile in that section”—which only made Jack smile despite him being so lost. The easy conversation seemed like a good sign at least.

“I think I’m going to schedule a meeting with the school board about getting the track redone, though. I thought that rubber was supposed to hold up for several years, but I feel like every time we’re out there half of it crumbles apart under the boys’ feet.” Coach huffed into his coffee.

Suzanne hummed in reply. “It’s always something with that school, I swear. Dicky, wasn’t it while you were there that the bleachers in the gym got knocked loose by something?”

“Lord, I remember that.” Bitty rolled his eyes. “It was my sophomore year, and I’m pretty sure that Nathan Burns did it on purpose.”

“Wasn’t he in your class?” Coach asked.

“No, a grade up. He never actually got caught, I don’t think. Everyone knew it was him though.”

While Jack didn’t have much to contribute to their conversation, he enjoyed listening to the stories the Bittles kept retelling. Eventually though he had to head out for practice and to catch the bus to Boston. Bitty promised that he had plenty planned to entertain his parents for the rest of the afternoon and that he knew where to get the tickets Jack reserved for the three of them, so he ducked out after giving him a quick kiss goodbye and retrieving the lunchbox Bitty prepared for him. Jack thought back to Bitty preparing the sandwich well ahead of time, claiming that having his mother catch him using his Aunt Judy’s jam would only make everything twice as complicated as it already was.

Before Jack knew it, the Falconers were warming up on the Bruins’ ice and his eyes were scanning the fans trickling in for either the Bittles or his parents. His dad sent him a text a little while earlier that they had checked into their hotel in Providence, but neither of them had provided any update since. Finally he spotted George leading Bitty and his parents to the Visitors’ family section and bit down a grin. Tater followed his gaze and nudged him.

“Your baker is here, I see. Means you will play extra hard tonight, Zimmboni, yes?”

“Maybe he asked me to take it easy tonight, eh?”

Tater gave and exaggerated gasp. “B would never!”

“I don't know, Tater... He’s been pretty jealous of our win streak since he’s been benched for so long.”

Squinting, Tater waved an arm and shouted up at the crowd. “You better not be guilting him into doing something stupid, little B!” 

Jack could see Bitty flush and raise his arms in confusion. He laughed and smacked at Tater’s arm, which he was still waving at Bitty and his parents. 

“Ha ha, leave him alone Tater.”

He pouted at Jack, which was comical if only because of his size. “We need all the luck we can get with these guys. Just being extra sure.”

Tater’s concern proved well placed as the first period ended with neither team making it onto the board. Jack already felt a little worn after spending most of his shift dodging the Bruins’ relentless d-men, but every glance up at the five sets of eyes watching intently from the stands filled him with a renewed vigor. The second period started rough with Snowy barely blocking a puck after one of the opposing forwards tried to battle it out with him in front of the net. Jack won the resulting face-off and helped push the action further into enemy territory. He briefly saw a chance to pass to Poots, who managed to finally get the Falcs a point because of it.

That seemed to set off a chain reaction, though, and both teams roared into the third period with one point each. By that point, Jack lost count of the number of times he got slammed into the boards, and his shoulders ached from the repeated hits. Despite the trouble, he still managed to send the puck home twice more. The Bruins kept up the pace the Falconers set, and before they realized what was happening, the buzzer rang with the score tied at three points each, sending them hurtling into overtime.

Much to his chagrin, the coaches kept Jack benched for the duration. They seemed concerned that the opposing defense was targeting him a little too harshly and didn’t want him to risk injury. He watched as Thirdy squeezed the puck past the Bruins’ goalie, sending the Visiting crowd to their feet in victory. Although he wished he’d been out on the ice for it, Jack still happily celebrated the win with the rest of the team.

The end of the game also meant being able to spend time with Bittle again, and there wasn’t any scenario where that wouldn’t immediately improve Jack’s mood. Coach and Suzanne seemed absolutely thrilled to have attended their first NHL game, and Bitty seemed much more relaxed because of it. His dad patted him on the back with a hearty congratulations before pulling him into a familiar hug that never failed to take Jack by surprise. His mother hugged him similarly, but hers somehow felt less jarring. Promising he’d see them all back at his apartment, Jack ducked away to rejoin his team so they could head home.

Perhaps it was the high of the win, but Jack felt so hopeful in regards of the next few days. Bitty was right in saying that Jack didn’t fully understand his nervousness, but everything seemed to be finally working out for the best. He bit his lip to try and smother his cheesy grin, but Marty and Thirdy caught him and proceeded to chirp him within an inch of his life.


	26. Thanksgiving (Part 3)

Alicia and Bob arrived early Thursday morning, but for once Bitty was the only one up and ready to let them into the apartment. Although he was sure Jack would chastise him for it later, it was a holiday and Jack had a long night the day before, so Bitty secretly shut off his alarm to let him sleep in. The commentary preceding the parade was muted and playing on the television while Bitty busied himself making pancakes for breakfast while Jack’s parents crowded into the kitchen and chatted at him. 

Soon after, Coach wandered into the kitchen in his pajamas in search of coffee. He started on seeing the Zimmermanns there already but quickly recovered to wish them a happy Thanksgiving.

“What’re you making there, Junior? Pancakes?” Coach leaned over Bitty’s shoulder after pouring himself a cup of coffee and peered at the skillet on the stovetop.

“Yes, sir. Figured it’s a special occasion and all.”

Coach laughed. “Since when are pancakes special occasion food?”

“Just because we eat them a lot doesn’t mean they still can’t be special.” Bitty grabbed his own mug and went to take a sip of his coffee.

“Point.”

“So, Eric…” The tone in Bob’s voice made Bitty pause. “Do you call Jack ‘sir,’ too?”

“ _What?_ ”

Bitty choked on his coffee and stared at Bad Bob with a horrified expression while Alicia started giggling. Coach blinked and suddenly found his coffee mug very interesting. Jack chose that moment to stumble sleepily into the kitchen, but based on the various reactions of those in the room, he frowned and looked pointedly at his dad.

“What did you do?”

“Ah, Jack. No ‘Good Morning’ for your Papa?“

Bitty slowly set his mug on the counter and started turning the pancakes before they could burn. “This is what I get for turning your alarm off.”

“I was wondering about that—“ Jack glanced over at Bitty before herding his parents into the common area. “Go sit down and stop stressing Bittle out, Maman, Papa, please.”

Coach cleared his throat. “I’m going to go give your mom a heads up that Jack’s parents are here. She’d probably wring my neck if I let Bob see her without makeup on.”

As Coach left, Jack made his way back into the kitchen and used their brief moment of solitude to kiss Bitty properly. Bitty then pressed his burning face into Jack’s chest.

“Honestly, I swear that father of yours has absolutely no filter, bless his heart.”

Jack cracked a wry grin and carded a hand through Bitty’s hair. “He definitely doesn’t. And Maman finds it hilarious, which only encourages him.”

Bitty grunted in response before turning back to the stove.

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, it’s fine. They actually might help take some of the pressure off.”

“That is why I invited them.”

“I guess.”

Jack opened the refrigerator and made a quick check of the dishes for later. “Is there anything you need me to do, Bits?”

“I think we’ve got everything? The turkey’s in the oven already, and I think everything else just needs to be heated up, which shouldn’t take long.”

“Okay.” Jack appeared behind Bitty and dropped a kiss onto the top of his head. “But, you should give me a task so I can have a plausible reason for avoiding entertaining our parents for a little while.”

“And keeping me company isn’t good enough a reason? I didn’t realize you thought so little of me, sweet pea.” Bitty smirked at him as he poured the last of the pancake batter into the pan.

“Nope, I’m only dating you for your food.” Jack said in perfect deadpan.

Bitty laughed. “Didn’t you hear? I’m so _terribly_ injured. I might never be able to bake again.”

“Is that so? I guess I’ll have to find some other reason to keep you around, eh?” Jack reached down and quickly groped Bitty’s ass.

He squeaked in response before turning around and smacking Jack on the arm. “Quit your chirping, Mr. Zimmermann. I’m kicking you out. Go be a good host.”

Jack pouted a bit but followed Bitty’s direction regardless.

When Bitty finally emerged from the kitchen once everything was ready, Jack and both their parents were sitting watching the beginning of the parade. The pancakes made a great way to start the holiday, but the real highlight came with the main meal. Hearty holiday meals weren’t Bitty’s specialties, but he took great pride in explaining that Jack did an equal share of the cooking while they ate their way through the afternoon. The six of them bonded over pie and hockey and stories from Jack and Bitty’s childhoods.

Alicia found herself watching Suzanne carefully throughout the day. She only knew as much about the situation as Jack told her, which admittedly wasn’t very much, but she could see the heartache on Suzanne’s face whenever their sons leaned into each other. Alicia recognized how well the two of them worked, and she had to fight down her irritation at the thought that anyone would even to think to reject that.

“Hey, Suzanne?” Alicia handed Suzanne a glass of wine and pulled her off to the side while the boys were busy watching Jack and Bob face each other in a game of pool. “Can I talk to you?”

“What’s going on?”

“That’s sort of what I’m wondering.” Alicia took a sip of her own wine. “It may not be my place to say anything, but I want you to know that Bob and I adore Eric. He and Jack mean so much to each other, and again I may be overstepping here, but I won’t let anything—or _anyone_ —stand in the way of their happiness.”

Suzanne watched the way Eric seemed to relax into Jack’s touch and sighed. “What did they tell you?”

“Not much. It’s really more what I noticed. I’ve had enough conversations with Eric to know you’re the most important person in his life besides Jack, and I hope you realize what that level of influence could do.”

“I’d never.” Suzanne frowned, feeling insulted that Alicia would even insinuate and guilty because that was exactly what scared Eric.

Alicia sighed. “I’m sure you heard about what happened with Jack.”

“Rick found a news article about it online when Dicky told us he was on the hockey team with a celebrity. It seemed like a lot of speculation.”

“They don’t know the full story, and Jack doesn’t want them to. But, the point is, I almost lost him. And I realized then that I didn’t care what he did as long as he was okay.”

Suzanne gripped her wine glass a little tighter, her brain automatically imagining losing _her_ son. “It’s…It’s not that I don’t like Jack or that I disapprove of their relationship. Rick and I… There’s always been talk about Dicky. We ignored it, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t hear it. I admit we didn’t have the best reaction when he told us, but we really just want him to be happy.”

“Jack makes him happy. _He_ makes _Jack_ happy.”

A moment passed with silence hanging between them, but Suzanne gathered the courage to speak up again. “He was scared to tell us. Dicky was scared to tell us, and I hate that he felt like he couldn’t come to us.”

“You know, Jack didn’t actually tell us _anything_ until after… everything.”

Suzanne nodded slowly, letting Alicia’s words settle in. She had a point. Although it wasn’t how he wanted and she and Rick reacted poorly—though she knew it was mostly her. She was amazed at how patient Rick was with the two of them—Eric did tell them. Suzanne had noticed a rift growing between her and Eric after he left for college, and now she knew it was because he was finally able to be himself, something he couldn’t do at home.

Steeling herself, Suzanne made her way over to Eric and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m glad we could spend this time with you, Dicky.”

“Me too.” He blinked at her, but he relaxed into the embrace.

Jack narrowly beat Bob in their game, and the group retired onto the couches. Finally, the tension in the air seemed to fade out into a lighthearted contentment. Jack had taken the spot on the couch between Bitty and Coach, but his presence didn’t feel like a buffer between them anymore. For the first time in months—years, if Bitty was being honest with himself—things felt okay again. Suzanne and Bob insisted on watching Christmas movies, and while Bitty felt it was a little early to start up the next holiday, he appreciated the warmth they brought into the apartment.

“Hey.” Jack nudged Bitty with his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I have something for you.”

Bitty frowned and glanced up at Jack. “I can’t tell if you’re flirting or if you’re trying to make Thanksgiving gifts a thing.”

“Well,” Jack grinned sheepishly, “neither, technically.”

He received an unimpressed look at that, so he barreled forward.

“Technically, this was supposed to be your Christmas gift, and the movie reminded me that I had them already. I was talking to Holster the other day, and he mentioned something Nursey told him, and I may have run with it a little bit.”

“O...kay. I didn’t realize they still kept in touch. I’m glad, though. Nursey always did look up to Holster a little bit.” Bitty shook his head. “Not the point. What did you do, Jack?”

“I bought you a gift. Again, I was going to wait until Christmas, but it occurred to me that they might be more useful if I gave them to you now.”

Their conversation caught the attention of their parents, who were glancing between them and the movie playing on Jack’s television. They tried to be subtle about listening in, but neither the Bittles nor the Zimmermanns had discretion as one of their strong suits.

“Is this the kind of gift I’m going to be a little annoyed with you about?”

“Eh, probably.” Jack scratched his head and sighed. “But I got them for selfish reasons, too. You don’t have to open it now, but I wanted to give them to you before you head back to Samwell.”

“I’ll open it tomorrow before you leave for practice, okay, sweet pea?”

Jack seemed to accept this and turned is attention back to the movie. Both he and Bitty missed the pleased looks that passed between their parents.

The apartment was warm and felt like home, which made it very easy for Bitty to ease into the embrace of sleep curled up against Jack’s side. He pushed the thought of Jack spending probably too much money on him out of his head, and he watched as the movie flickered with red and green. His last thoughts before drifting off fully were of how nice it was to spend the holidays with family.


	27. Crossed Wires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: panic attacks

Bitty woke the next morning to an empty bed, but he allowed himself to lounge in the warmth of the sheets before facing the day. Thoughts of Thanksgiving left him with a warm glow. Things had actually gone _well_. He had spent years thinking that there was no way he could ever bring a boy home for the holidays and be honest with his family about their relationship, but he _had_ done it in a way. 

Eventually the silence from the rest of the apartment despite how late in the morning it was piqued Bitty’s curiosity just enough to pull him away from his blanket burrito. He blinked in surprise when the only person he saw was Jack, sitting on the couch with his couch.

“Where are my parents?”

Jack looked up and smiled. “Mine stopped by earlier and demanded to take them out for brunch.”

“With—without us?”

“No, they offered, but I thought you’d appreciate the extra sleep. I know you’ve been stressed the past few days. Or, uh, weeks.”

Bitty grinned and plopped down on the couch beside Jack. A video of one of Houston’s recent games was paused on his laptop screen, and Bitty rolled his eyes.

“What? I have a game tonight.”

“I know. You’re always so thorough. It’s cute.”

Jack scrunched up his nose. “If you say so. Did you want your gift now?”

Bitty nodded, and Jack set his computer on the coffee table and disappeared into the bedroom. He reemerged with a decently sized plain cardboard box and set it unceremoniously on the floor in front of the couch.

“I, uh, didn’t wrap it, if that’s okay.”

Bitty shook his head with a smile. “I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

He eased open the box, curious as to what kitchen appliance or article of clothing Jack overspent on him this time, but his expression fell into a soft frown on seeing the contents. The black leather was soft under his fingers. They were so similar to his worn hockey skates, but different in extremely crucial ways. Bitty pulled his hand back slowly.

“You shouldn’t have gotten these, Jack.”

“I know, but,” Jack grinned and sank onto the couch next to Bitty. “I thought since you’re figure skating again, you should have the right skates for it.”

Bitty closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “No, Jack. I can’t…” He took a deep breath and reopened his eyes. “I’m not going back to figure skating. That was never going to happen for me.”

“But…you are. The coaching.”

“Yeah, but this is temporary, Jack. I’m doing this as a favor to Coach Murray and as a way to keep myself from going stir crazy because of my injury.”

Jack frowned. “You love it, though. I thought…”

“I love hockey, too, but I’m not trying to go into the NHL, either. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could ever successfully do any sort of figure skating in front of people again. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t.”

“You’ve done jumps in front of me and the rest of the hockey team before. Bits, part of this coaching you’re doing involves demonstration, right?”

Bitty sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The first jump I did for you guys was instinct to avoid getting checked, and no one ever forgot it. I guess I eventually got more comfortable with it, but.” He shook his head. “And the coaching…they’re _kids_ , Jack. I could do anything if it was just in front of kids.”

“I just wanted to see you skate again.” Jack’s voice sounded small, and it made Bitty’s heart clench.

“Not everyone gets a comeback story, Jack.” He got up and stepped around the box. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

Jack grabbed his hand. “Wait. I’m sorry for assuming. Please take them, though. I don’t care if you hardly use them, but I want you to have them.”

Bitty hesitated before tugging on Jack’s hand. “Okay, because I can tell this means a lot to you. I’m not going to promise anything, though. And, um, I do need a shower. Do you want to join me?”

“Sure, bud.”

The shower helped, Jack thought. He did his best to banish the sheepish guilt he felt about getting Bitty the skates, mostly because he knew logically that Bitty wasn’t seriously mad at him and that he really had no real way of knowing Bitty’s true thoughts about his figure skating career. It wasn’t something they really talked about, and Jack found himself wondering why. They spent so many quiet conversations focusing on him and his past and the struggle he still felt directly because of it, but those conversations were far and few between with Bitty. The conversations they did have focused on his issues with physicality—stemming directly from his days of getting bullied back in Georgia. Even his recurring nightmares generally focused on that. But Bitty had always skirted the subject of his skating. It felt like that part of his life was shrouded in mystery, and any bits and pieces Jack knew about it, it felt like he had to either find out for himself or force Bitty to tell him even one thing.

He was still thinking about it when Bitty’s parents left to catch their flight back home. He was still thinking about it when his parents took their leave after lunch, promising to be in the stands that night at their home game. He was still thinking about it when Bitty sat silently in the couch on his laptop doing _something_ but not saying what.

Jack replayed the same Aeros clip for the fourth time, but the audio coming through his headphones just sounded like white noise. He paused the video and closed his eyes. His head throbbed with a dull ache, and it hit him that it was because he’d been clenching his jaw. He tried to relax, recognizing that he shouldn’t let himself get so stressed right before a game, but he had trouble getting his breaths even. He opened his eyes again and stared at his shaking fingers and suddenly realized what was happening.

He was having a panic attack.

“Bits.” His voice was rough, like he hadn’t spoken in hours. _Had_ he spoken in hours? What time was it? _Fuck_ , he had practice at _four_. He didn’t have time for this. He had people who needed him to be _together_ and _stable_.

Bitty clearly didn’t hear him through his own headphones, so he forced his voice louder. “ _Bits_.”

Hearing him that time, Bitty’s head jerked up, and Jack felt the boiling hot sting of shame when he saw the realization dawn on Bitty’s face and then break into concern. He knew Bitty never judged him for this, but Jack couldn’t help it. He hated feeling helpless.

Bitty quickly went to Jack’s side and carefully moved both their laptops somewhere they wouldn’t get knocked on the ground. He hovered slightly, unsure.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

Jack quickly grabs at Bitty’s shirt, and he takes the hint, climbing onto Jack’s lap and threading a hand through his hair.

It helps. Jack isn’t sure how long they sit there, laced together on one of the couches, but Bitty makes no move to leave. He was _there_ and there for _Jack_ , and the hand on his head coupled with the weight on his thighs was enough to forcefully yank him back down from wherever his spiraling had sent him. By the time the tension bled fully out of his shoulders, Jack took note of the clammy coolness of sweat on his back and forehead. Slowly he lifted his head up to meet Bitty’s eyes.

He was watching him with a tinge of worry, but he brightened up when he saw that Jack was seemingly alright again.

“Hey.” Bitty whispered.

“Hi.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jack almost shook his head, but stopped himself. Their lack of communication is what set him off in the first place, and he wanted to do everything in his power to keep that from happening again.

“I think I got myself too worked up. Thinking too hard. Running with the implications.”

Bitty frowned. “Was it about your game tonight?”

Jack glanced at his laptop screen where Bitty moved it earlier, and it had gone dark, but he was sure Bitty saw the paused highlight reel he was watching. He shook his head. “No. Uh, about you, actually.”

“Oh.”

“Not—“ Jack swore, hating the faintly distressed look on Bitty’s face, “I want you to talk to me about things, Bits. I need you to tell me things.”

Bitty relaxed but bit his lip gently. “This is about the skates.”

“Not… directly. I think that they were a wake up call about how you’ve never told be anything about you and figure skating. You mentioned it a couple weeks ago, but you haven’t really told me anything aside from the vague story of why you ended up quitting. And even that I had to drag out of you. I don’t like that you’re hiding things from me. Not that you have to tell me everything—you _are_ your own person, and I don’t want you to feel suffocated—but this is clearly something important, and I want you to be honest with me about it.”

Bitty nodded slowly, and his hand clenched slightly in Jack’s hair. He took his time to choose his words carefully.

“I think… I’m embarrassed. Which is most of the reason I haven’t said anything. That last competition, it convinced me that maybe I really wasn’t good enough to bother with figure skating anymore. Not… seriously. Which I know now is something I told myself at the time because I was so emotionally drained with everything that was happening, not because it was in any way true. I know I’m allowed to not be perfect. But whenever I think about possibly going out there again, center ice with all eyes on me, all this _pressure_ to do well… I think about how _easy_ it was for me to royally screw up and embarrass myself in front of an _entire region_ , I panic, and I force myself not to think about it.”

Jack pressed a chaste kiss to Bitty’s neck. “I know how you feel, bud. Thank you for telling me.”

“Jack.”

He quirked an eyebrow up and met Bitty’s serious expression.

“If I’m ever doing something that makes you anxious, I need you to say something before it gets to this point, okay, honey? Can you promise me that?”

“Okay. I promise.”

They stayed on the couch for as long as they could, but Jack had to ease Bitty off his lap and get to practice. Jack kissed him goodbye and ducked out the door, making sure Bitty promised him he’d stop by the locker room before the game started. If someone told his younger self that he’d be so happy in both his professional _and_ personal life—even with the perpetual threat of his anxiety—he wasn’t sure he’d have believed them.

He never thought he was ever going to get that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello yes i live to s u f f e r


	28. Fly

Three days a week, Eric pried himself out of bed long before the sun rose. The drive to the arena was nearly a half hour, and he had to be ready to go on time if he and his mother were going to make it to practice by six. That gave him a blissful two hours of ice time before he had to make it back in time for school to start. The shift to sixth grade had made things better since the middle school started a full half hour later than the elementary school, which meant he could have longer practices. Katya had full faith in him this year to actually _place_ in the Juniors, especially since he’d gotten so far the year before. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t hate getting up at five-thirty.

Coach saw the two of them off before heading out to the high school for football practice. Eric had overheard him grousing to his mom about how his skills were wasted as just the _assistant_ coach, but it didn’t seem like the head coach would leave the district any time soon. Eric was mostly glad his dad let him quit football after his showcase last winter without too much of a fight, especially now that meant he could put all his energy into perfecting his routines.

Making the jump to middle school also meant that Eric had a chance to make a fresh start. The boys from his elementary school didn’t seem to find ice skating as amazing as Eric did, and that meant he spent a lot of time being teased about his _‘girly’_ hobby. Clearly they never paid too much attention to the Olympics. He had hoped that the past winter’s games would have made the teasing stop since they could see for themselves that it was in fact a men’s sport, but if anything it got worse. So far, the new faces at school coupled with his determination to keep that part of his life a secret helped.

The minute he hit the empty ice, Eric left any residual negative thoughts behind. Katya directed him through his warm-up calisthenics, and he followed her direction with a sleepy grin. With only a little under a month left to prepare for the Southern Junior Regionals, Eric knew he didn’t have time to lose focus. Especially since he had his sights set on _first_. He had images of himself years down the road as a household name to those who kept up with the skating world. Eric was so close to that dream that he could taste it.

Ten years later, Bitty saw that same unbridled determination in Amanda’s eyes as she pushed herself through a near perfect loop. She silently worked through the step routine that followed the jump before easing into the figure-eight that lead into her paired jumps. By this point, her lutz was solid, but the transition into her salchow came a few beats too late and ended with her catching herself with one hand. Bitty frowned and skated over to her. His skates still felt tough on his feet, but it had barely been a week since Jack sprung them on him. He made a mental note to ask one of the frogs to pick up some more bandages from the Murder Stop ‘n’ Shop before they ran out.

“You’re getting better at the transition, but I can tell you’re still thinking too hard about what you’ve already done. What did I tell you about that?”

Amanda sighed and rubbed at her fingers that brushed the ice. “I need to focus on what I have to do next. I need to trust myself to follow through with each piece and keep looking ahead.”

“Good. Do it again.”

She nodded once and skated off. Grace and Kat bumped into his legs from behind, making him wobble a bit from the impact. They giggled out their apologies before pulling each other hand in hand back to practice their tandem spins. Michael eyed them suspiciously before glancing back up at Bitty. He had been trying to lower his sit spin all morning with little luck, and his frustration was evident in the way he kept running his hands through his hair and knocking his toe pick against the ice. Bitty glanced over to make sure Dorothy was still focused, too, before skating over to him.

“Do you want in on a little secret, Michael?”

Michael nodded, jaw set and eyes averted.

Bitty sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “I hate sit spins the most.”

“I thought you were going to tell me something useful.”

“Oh, I’m getting to that, honey. I told my skating coach how much I hated them once, and she made me spend the rest practice doing nothing but sit spins, and mind you, my lessons were two hours long at that time. I don’t think I spent that much time with my butt on the ice since I first started learning how to skate to begin with. But, I got better at them.”

Michael frowned and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mr. B, if this is your way of telling me to do nothing but sit spins for an entire practice…”

“Oh, Lord, no. We don’t have time for that before the showcase. My point is that I’ve gotten very good at telling where problem areas are for sit spins. Do one more for me, and focus only on staying balanced—not how low you can get or how far out you can get your leg. Just staying upright.”

He hesitantly followed Bitty’s instruction and afterwards skated back over expectantly.

“Again. But this time, focus on your leg.” Bitty watched as Michael did as he asked, and while he didn’t fall, Michael definitely wobbled.

“I don’t know what this is supposed to be accomplishing.”

Bitty rolled his eyes and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Trust me. This will help. Show me a third time, now focusing on getting yourself as low as possible.”

Still clearly skeptical, Michael did as Bitty asked. This time he overcompensated and fell back onto the ice halfway through and let out a frustrated groan. Bitty glided over and helped him up, smiling softly.

Giving himself a mental pep talk, Bitty met Michael’s eyes. “Now I want you to watch me. I’m going to show you what each of those spins looked like, alright?”

Demonstrating forms that were _supposed_ to fail were the easiest on Bitty. He knew his kids wouldn’t judge him for slip ups, but he was still an authority figure out on the ice. Making mistakes were still embarrassing. They were lucky he was a sap who’d do anything for children. Regardless, knowing the fall on the third spin was coming helped keep Bitty focused on teaching and not on his past regrets.

He eased himself up and studied Michael’s serious expression. “Now, what did you notice?”

“The first spin was almost perfect, but the second had better form, and on the third your center of gravity was clearly off.” He paused. “Was that really what my spins looked like?”

Bitty grinned. “Yep. It was. Can you tell me what was wrong with my form on the first one?”

“You weren’t crouched all the way, and your back wasn’t arched.”

“Show me your sit spin now, thinking of what you saw.”

Michael skated off and into another sit spin, and Bitty could tell by the way he arched his back _and_ stayed upright as he sank down that they had made a breakthrough. Michael looked to Bitty as he finished, eyes bright. Bitty knew he didn’t even have to nod to tell Michael that he did wonderfully, but he did so anyway just to see the grin break across his face.

Bitty scanned the ice and watched the group move fluidly and with purpose with pride sparking through his veins. They had a week before the showcase, and they were almost ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be the showcase!! Stay tuned for more cute kids!!! On ice!!!!


	29. Presenting...!

Saturday came faster than Bitty expected. The last few rehearsals had the kids in full costume, running through the program with very minor last minute tweaks and adjustments. The youth hockey game that morning finished by eleven, and Bitty found himself alone in Faber before a smooth expanse of ice. He had several hours before the kids would arrive for pre-showcase warm-ups. Realistically, he doubted any members of his team would stop by, since they had an away game that evening around the same time as the showcase. Chowder groused to him earlier about missing it, but Bitty reminded him that he wasn’t the one skating, so it didn’t really matter. 

The ice called to him, though.

Bitty was there earlier than he needed to be, but the cool air rolling off the ice helped settle his nerves. He fiddled with the sound system in the booth to keep himself occupied. An audio mistake could throw off a skater’s focus, which was something Bitty knew through experience. He was determined to give his kids the best experience possible.

_When had they become_ his _kids?_

His eyes wandered up to stare at center ice. He didn’t bother looking down at his figure skates propped against the side of the booth, but Bitty knew they were there. Everything was ready for the showcase. There was plenty of time to do one more sweep of the zamboni across the ice. He had the entirely of Faber to himself. He could.

Bitty scratched absently at where the hem of his compression vest itched at his collar bone. He shouldn’t. He needed to take it easy so he could be back in hockey practices before Christmas. Bitty mentally chastised himself for even considering it, especially remembering the argument he just had with Jack.

But, _Lord_ , he wanted to.

Making a decision, Bitty toed off his sneakers and eased into his skates. Gliding across the ice felt easy in a way that only baking ever had. The sound of his skates scraping across the ice reverberated throughout Faber, and Bitty suddenly felt like he was thirteen again, back before everything crashed down around him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear Katya barking out adjustments from the sidelines. Arms loose, back arched, jump with your thighs. He did jump, then, pushing himself into an unfocused double axel. He felt like he was flying. Nothing ever felt closer to pure, unbridled freedom than openly skating the way he wanted.

His body moved in autopilot, and Bitty let himself drown in the feeling. He knew, deep down, that this moment was his last time doing this. Before he shifted back into the push of hockey and then off the ice forever. In another life, he could have made something of himself. Gone Olympic, like Katya thought he would. The thought stung, and he hoped she wasn’t too disappointed in him. 

With his breathing ragged because of his injury, Bitty knew he had to bring his fun to an end. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop. Not yet. Stopping meant finally saying goodbye to figure skating, and something about that hurt. One more spin. One more figure eight. One more jump. He kicked off, throwing everything into the salchow. He felt the force of spinning before skidding into a shaky landing. And pausing.

For a brief moment he wished he wasn’t alone because he wanted someone there to confirm what he felt, and it _felt_ like he just landed a _quad_. _By accident_.

He stood, conflicted and alone on center ice.

Despite the cool air in Faber Bitty suddenly felt like he was suffocating, and it took all his strength to glide off the ice and yank off his skates. He stumbled to the locker room in stocking feet and splashed some water on his face. It took several minutes of leaning over the sink before he felt normal again.

“What am I doing? This is ridiculous.” He said to the empty room.

The kids arrived right on time with their parents, dressed adorably in their outfits and jittery with nerves. He spent a few moments trying to calm each of them, but he knew from experience that even the best pep talk would only work partially. He told them to use the energy the nerves gave them before sending them off to go warm-up.

Glancing up, Bitty noticed that Coach Murray, Penny, and the judges had also arrived. He made his way over to the judges’ table and joined in on the pleasantries. Small talk he could do. One of the judges, an older woman named Marianne, frowned when Bitty introduced himself.

“Why do I recognize your name, Eric?”

He grinned. “I’m actually the captain of the hockey team here, so that’s probably why.“

“No…” She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it. I don’t follow hockey at all, really, let alone college level teams.”

One of the other judges turned to Coach Murray. “Wait, didn’t you say Eric used to do competitive figure skating? Maybe that’s where you know his name, Mary.”

Her eyes lit up in a way that made Eric a little nervous. “You’re that skater from Georgia, aren’t you?”

“Um, yeah. But… that was _years_ ago. How—”

“I had never seen so much pure _joy_ radiate from a junior skater before, especially from someone from a state that hardly ever produces any figure skaters, let alone those at the level you were on. You made an impression, Eric. How on Earth did you end up here?”

“Just worked out that way, I guess.” Bitty shrugged, wracking his brain for an excuse to escape from the conversation.

Luckily, the alarm on his phone went off and alerted him that he had fifteen minutes to gather up his kids and get them in place for the showcase. He excused himself and gestured for the skaters to head back to the locker room. The group performance was first, and that hopefully would help take some of the pressure off the kids since the focus wouldn’t be on any one of them the whole time. The announcer introduced the group, and soon enough it was time. Once all five skaters were out on the ice and in position, the opening notes of Winter Wonderland played throughout Faber.

Watching as a coach rather than as a competitor felt very different, Bitty decided. He thought that the two might have been the same, but while they were similar, watching the kids he taught perform left him with a hope they’d succeed, rather than wishful thinking for his own performance to somehow surpass the one he was watching. He felt his heart soar rather than sink when he saw how perfectly in sync Dorothy and Amanda were. And again with Kat and Grace. Michael managed his sit spin with apparent ease, and Bitty decided that boy needed some reward cookies.

The song ended with cheers from the audience. Kat and Grace hovered near the entrance gate to the ice as the other three left, and Bitty gave both of them a quick hug.

“You’ll do great. Both of y’all. Just remember—watch out for each other, okay?”

They nodded and slid out to center ice. Soon they were off and following the beat of Marshmallow World in a cutesy mirrored routine. Grace fell out of one of her spins, but she recovered quickly. Michael followed after with a simple routine to Sleigh Ride. He kept his eyes on Bitty as he went through his routine, so Bitty did his best to keep his expression positive. Luckily, it wasn’t too hard.

Amanda worried at her lip right before she was slotted to take the ice. Bitty rested a hand on her head and smiled.

“Hey, you’re going to just fine, honey.”

She frowned. “Are you sure? I want this so bad, Mr. B.”

“I know. I’ll tell you what. If it’s not on the ice, you don’t think about it, okay?”

“But I’m the only thing on the ice.”

“Exactly. Nothing else matters, y’hear?” Bitty took her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “Go. You know what to do.”

Amanda nodded slowly before skating off. And she did skate just fine. Her routine wa far from flawless, but Bitty could see her dedication to the sport laid out in front of him, and nothing disastrous happened. As the last few notes of Jingle Bell Rock faded away, she skated off the ice to the sound of applause. Her face glowed with pride, and Bitty felt a pang of sadness when he remembered that feeling of performing well in competition. Dorothy finished the evening off with a beautiful performance to Santa Baby, even if Bitty regretted arriving too late in the season to make any song choice decisions.

The judges scored them all with decent scores, and Amanda, Michael, and Dorothy earned scored that indicated that they would do well if they wanted to try for Nationals next season. With abolition of the Juniors several years prior, Bitty knew he was probably unfamiliar with the new system for competition, but he’d be willing to help if they needed him to. He had to stop himself from assuming he’d be helping out next season. Bitty shook his head. Hopefully the doctors cleared him to go back to hockey soon so he could move past the conflicting emotions coaching brought up.

Sometimes the hardest pill to swallow was knowing that some things weren’t meant to be.


	30. We Could Be

It was harder than Bitty expected to stow his skates away in the back of his closet at the Haus. He made his peace with giving up figure skating years ago, but recently that seemed to be the only thing anyone could ever talk about. Jack, he’d forgiven—as if he could ever stay mad at that boy—but he wasn’t the only one hinting. He felt suffocated by the expectant looks of both Penny and the judge who recognized him at the showcase,  _and_ Ollie and Wicks had ambushed him while they celebrated their win the next night, asking if he would teach them a few spins. Normally, Bitty would have been delighted to do so, but the past few weeks had emphasized figure skating to such a relentless degree that even thinking about showing off a jump or two during practice left him feeling emotionally drained. He cited his injury as an excuse and spent the rest of the night baking six dozen snickerdoodles.

Laying in his bed after the kegster, Bitty quietly wondered if coaching was a mistake. It brought up too many old thoughts an emotions he thought he’d worked through but clearly hadn’t. Admitting that was hard.

He rolled over and closed his eyes, eventually falling into a fitful sleep.

After his class Monday, Bitty settled into the Haus kitchen with the intention of making and rolling out enough pie dough to last the next month. If he played it right, he wouldn’t have any trouble fitting everything in the freezer to defrost later.

“Need some help?”

Bitty glanced back at Dex and hesitated. “I think I’ve got this, actually, but thanks for the offer. Um, but you can hang out if you want. Company is always nice.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m pretty sure Nursey is back already, and I’m not ready to deal with that yet.” Dex took a seat and watched Bitty gently work the dough.

“I thought y’all were getting along better.”

“No, we are.” He sighed. “It’s just a lot sometimes. I don’t feel like strangling him nearly as much, recently.”

Bitty let out a soft laugh. “That’s certainly a good thing.”

“My mom called earlier.”

“Hm?”

“She wants to know what she should tell my uncle about this next summer. Usually I help him out, but I’m not sure if I want to leave Samwell this year. I’m going to see him during the holidays and she wants to be able to prepare him if I opt out. Every time I go back there I can’t help but notice how different things are…um, how different _I am_ now.”

“I know the feeling, believe me.” Bitty sectioned out enough dough to make one crust and began rolling it out. “It’s hard, but you’ve got to make the decision whether or not seeing the people outweighs some of the things they might say.”

Dex huffed and scrunched his eyebrows together. “Yeah.”

Bitty eased the newly formed crust between two sheets of wax paper and rolled it up for easy storage. The next three followed easily, and despite the silence in the kitchen, Dex’s company did make the time pass a little easier. With him there, Bitty was able to push away his restless emotions about skating for a while. It wasn’t like he didn’t recognize the importance of talking through tough emotions. He learned that very well during countless conversations with Jack, but a part of him, the stubborn part, didn’t like admitting that there were things in his life that he wasn’t okay with. Not knowing when he’d get a chance to step foot on the ice again was a big one.

Dex had unknowingly voiced Bitty’s own fears aloud on top of it all, too. Bitty wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with his mother when he told her that he wasn’t coming back after graduation for the foreseeable future. He’d barely gotten away with spending most of the previous summer at “Samwell” (He was most definitely in Providence) without raising too much suspicion, and despite how much she was trying to be open-minded about everything, Bitty was still afraid this would push her too far. The happier he got in his relationship with Jack, the angrier he felt about all those years he spent scared and ashamed of who he was, and the difference between himself and the rest of Madison was deafening.

A sharp clatter made Bitty glance up at Dex with a curious frown. Dex bent over sheepishly and retrieved a fork he’d been messing with from the floor.

“You get to clean that.”

“Yeah, fair.” Dex rolled his eyes and got up to do just that, when he hesitated slightly when he noticed the worry in Bitty’s expression. “Are you alright?”

“Just thinking about what you said.”

Dex blanched. “Christ, I didn’t even think about that. Sorry.”

“Oh, hush. I think everyone comes to the realization that they aren’t the person their parents hoped they’d be at some point.”

“How is that, by the way?” Dex kept his voice soft, a soft pink blush dusting his cheeks, and rinsed off the fork, and Bitty smiled at how much that alone showed how much Dex had grown in the near three years they’d known each other.

He didn’t answer right away, though. If anything, things were going well. Bitty was back with his weekly calls with his mother, and Coach had sent his customary “good luck” text before the showcase. They both still cared, both tried to support him as best they knew how, and both really liked Jack. Bitty felt lucky. The impending holiday season and the inevitable confrontation with his extended family were gnawing at him. He wasn’t ever going to get used to how much of an endless process coming out was. But, he was a master of procrastination, and decided to tuck those troubled emotions away until they were more relevant.

“It’s going okay, actually. They’re warming up to it. It’s not like it came out of left field or anything, though. People in small towns do talk.”

Dex gave him a wry grin. “I am well aware.”

Bitty grinned back. Despite their differences, he and Dex definitely had their own special connection.

“What is bothering you, then? If not your parents?”

Bitty’s grin faltered at the question. “Um.”

“You don’t have to talk about it or anything.” Dex said quickly. “I just want to help, if you’re okay with that.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s… Do you ever… ever feel like you made the wrong choice, even if it felt like you didn’t really have a choice at the time? Especially because making that choice never seemed like anything you would ever do to everyone around you?”

Dex hesitated then nodded slowly but didn’t elaborate. Bitty chose not to push him on the matter.

He pressed on. “There’s a lot that I haven’t told you guys… things I’ve barely even mentioned to Jack. And I think part of that is because I’ve convinced myself that if I ignore it, it doesn’t exist.”

Dex frowned and opened his mouth but Bitty silenced him with a finger.

“Don’t. I know. I’ve had this conversation with Jack, and I’m working on it. But… Don’t get my words all tangled, I love hockey more than I can say, and I love all y’all, and I’ll never be more thankful that it brought me and Jack together. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat because if I’m being honest, I’ve never been happier—well, once they finally let me play again, but that’s beside the point. I let myself forget how much I loved figure skating, though, and the coaching I’ve been doing has started bringing all that back, and it’s hitting me that I missed my shot at going anywhere with that, and that hurts in real unexpected ways.” Bitty took a deep breath to try and steady himself.

“Why not?”

Bitty blinked. “Why not what?”

Dex chewed thoughtfully on his lip and met his captain’s eyes with a soft frown. “Why can’t you keep going with figure skating after you graduate?”

“For one, I don’t have a coach. Despite the few jumps and spins I can still do, I’m horrendously out of shape for it, and I’m at the age where skaters should already be established, not getting started.”

He snorted. “Sorry, yeah, I don’t know a ton about figure skating, but those sound like excuses. And honestly, if you did love it as much as you say you do, I feel like you _of all people_ could find a way to make it happen.”

Bitty stared at Dex, dumbfounded. He made it sound so _easy_ , and Bitty knew it wasn’t. He couldn’t just _do_ it. He turned back to his pie dough and worked on rolling out two more discs to store in the freezer. Dex seemed to understand that Bitty was done talking about the matter and smartly kept his mouth shut. With nothing but soft pop music playing from Bitty’s phone to fill the silence, his thoughts kept racing with nothing to slow them down.

He glanced back up at Dex, who was watching the movement of the rolling pin with a thoughtful expression, and sighed inaudibly.

“Do you want to talk about the real reason you’re down here watching me mess with this dough, or are you going to stick with your ‘avoiding Nursey’ story?”

Dex flushed wildly and sputtered. He immediately launched into a long and overly-complicated story as to what Derek did that made Dex want to avoid him for an hour or two and sited his conversation with his mom as _"definitely part of the reason"_ , but the flush on his cheeks never faded. Bitty chuckled softly and continued rolling the dough, fighting to keep the mischievous smirk off his face while Dex agonized.


	31. Back Home

The next Monday found Bitty sitting in just his boxer briefs in an examination room. The hospital kept it about as cold as the locker rooms in Faber, and he couldn’t help but shiver while he waited for the doctor to get back once Hall and Murray arrived. The doctor didn’t tell Bitty anything after his physical. Typically, he made comments about how nicely Bitty was healing up and gave him advice on what he should do to promote healing and so on, but this time he merely nodded and said that he needed to discuss some things with the hockey coaches.

That made Bitty nervous. He actually felt physically okay. His chest pain had ebbed to nearly nonexistent levels when he didn’t take his prescribed medication, and he didn’t find himself breathing heavily after he made the trek across campus for class anymore. He thought he was nearly at the end of the whole debacle. The emotionless look in the doctor’s eyes combined with the need to have Hall and Murray there left Bitty feeling more nervous than hopeful.

His mind dipped into the possibilities of what might be happening against his will. The fracture could have severed his nerves, which is why he wasn’t feeling pain anymore. Despite the compression vest, maybe the figure skating _had_ been too much and made it worse, and the doctor had to discuss the possibility of him never returning to the ice with the coaches. Bitty blinked back tears that threatened to fall. They should have picked a new captain the second they had to pull him off the ice. What hopes did they have of making it to the Frozen Four with a captain who can’t even get on the ice?

Needing the comfort, he texted Jack.

> **Bitty:** I’m at my appointment.
> 
> **Bitty:** I think there’s something wrong.

It took a few minutes for him to answer. 

> **Jack:** What did the doctor say?
> 
> **Bitty:** That’s just it.
> 
> **Bitty:** He didn’t say anything.
> 
> **Bitty:** He just gave me this *look* and said he needed to call the coaches.
> 
> **Jack:** It’ll be okay, bud. Do you need me to drive down there?
> 
> **Bitty:** No, it’s okay. You should rest.
> 
> **Bitty:** How was morning skate?
> 
> **Jack:** Tater complained that I wasn’t sharing your baked goods, and Marty spent the whole practice raving about how his son got a part on his school’s play.
> 
> **Bitty:** Awww. :D
> 
> **Bitty:** Tell Tater to quit being such a brat.
> 
> **Jack:** Haha. Okay.
> 
> **Jack:** And Bits?
> 
> **Jack:** It’s going to be alright. 

Bitty smiled at his phone screen and took a deep breath. No matter what the doctor said, Jack was right. Everything was going to be just fine. He shivered again and rubbed his hands on his arms, hoping the doctor would get back soon. Although he was done with classes for the day, the team still had practice later that afternoon, and Bitty needed to be there as long as he was still captain. Even if he did spend the entire time on the bench.

The door to the examination room opened, and the doctor and both of the hockey coaches made their way into the room. Murray flashed him a quick smile, which Bitty tentatively returned. He was still nervous.

The doctor unfolded the x-ray Bitty got done earlier that day and hung it on the lightbox, and Bitty blinked.

“Alright, Eric. I’ve been talking with your coaches here, because I wanted to run a few things past them before I said anything that might get your hopes up. They have their own concerns they want to address with you, but I’ll let them handle that.”

“Wait.” Bitty stared intently at his x-ray. “Was that from this morning?”

“Yes.” The doctor smiled softly.

“But… I don’t see… Is it healed?” He couldn’t spot the familiar jagged line on the x-ray of his chest.

The doctor nodded. “More or less, it looks like that’s the case. There’s still a slight abnormality where the fracture was, but we expected that since you’ve stopped growing. You took very good care of your injury. I don’t think I’ll have to see you back here again.”

Bitty grinned and pressed his hands to his cheeks. Finally, this nightmare was over.

“Thank you,” He finally managed to croak out, and the doctor simply nodded and left the room.

Hall turned to Bitty and smiled. “It’ll be good to have you back, cap.”

“Oh Lord, I’m going to be so out of shape. Wait, does that mean I’ll be skating at practice today?”

“Well, we actually wanted to talk to you about that. We’ll let you get dressed and meet you out in the lobby, alright?”

“Okay.” The elation he felt died a bit on his tongue at Murray’s words.

They left, and Bitty eased himself back into his clothes. He was getting emotional whiplash from the day’s events but tried to stay focused on the positives. He was officially cleared of his injury. Bitty glanced at the compression vest and pointedly did not put it back on with the rest of his clothes. He never wanted to wear anything that itchy again.

Hall and Murray weren’t hard to spot in the waiting room, and Bitty quickly walked over to them.

“So, the doctor officially gave you ice clearance. Congrats.” Murray patted Bitty on the back with a smile.

“However,” Hall started, “We do have the final say on this. As much as we’re thrilled to get you back on the ice, we are a little worried.”

“Worried? About what?”

“Well, because of what happened, it’s possible that your checking issue might resurface. Hopefully, that’s not the case because we’d hate to have to pull from the ice after having you benched this whole time, but we have to consider what’s best for the team.” Hall watched Bitty seriously.

Bitty scratched at his neck and looked down. “Oh. I, uh, I guess that makes sense.”

“However,” Murray said, “That doesn’t mean we won’t see how this goes. Hall and I are going to put you in a no-contact jersey for the next few practices to get you back in the swing of things, and afterwards we’ll see what happens.”

“Okay.” Bitty swallowed around a lump in his throat and nodded.

At practice that afternoon, Bitty took a deep breath as he stepped out onto the ice. The rest of the team hollered at the sight of him, and it took several whistle blows and a few shouts from the coaches to get everyone back on task. Bitty was right—he was out of shape a bit from his time off, but the burn in his legs was a positive one that kept him going. Silently, Bitty was glad the coaches made the decision to keep him on no-contact for a while. He’d never admit it aloud, but since none of his team save Ollie and Wicks really knew the extent of his checking issue anymore, he was glad they didn’t have to see that first hand. It would be hard getting people to listen to him if they thought he acted like a fainting goat.

But, Bitty fit right back in with his team like he’d never been gone. They ran drills under Bitty’s direction like usual, but this time he was there to join them. He felt pure freedom as he glided across the ice while guiding the puck where he wanted it to go. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was why he’d been feeling so torn about figure skating the past several weeks. He really just missed hockey, and using ice skating as a substitute in the meantime had only revived old thoughts that didn’t actually matter. The only thing that could possibly make him feel happier would be getting to see Jack, but the cheery phone call they had earlier when Bitty relayed the good news was more than enough to tide him over until they saw each other again.

Bitty pointedly refused to think about what was going to happen when he graduated and hung up his skates for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end, y'all!


	32. Check, Please?

Bitty sat out the last several games for the rest of the semester, understanding that Hall and Murray needed to be able to trust him on the ice before they put him back in permanently. They ended up losing all four, only one in overtime, and a melancholy haze settled on the Haus afterward before everyone left for the holidays. Bitty stayed with Jack for the two days between the end of the semester and his flight back to Georgia, but nothing would ever be enough to make not seeing each other over the winter holidays any easier. Luckily, his parents understood enough to let Bitty spend hours on the phone with Jack while he was back in Madison. He managed to come out to Moomaw, by mentioning to her that Jack was, in fact, his boyfriend, and she merely nodded gruffly and complimented his good taste. Bitty _might_ have turned bright red at that, but he’d adamantly deny it if anyone mentioned it.

Despite the fun the holidays brought, Bitty was back north in time for New Years’ and happily spent it with Jack in his apartment in Providence. He didn’t get the chance to stay long, though, because his final semester at Samwell quickly started up again, and he really needed to get back in the groove of things for the tail end of hockey season.

Ford sat in the kitchen at the Haus while Bitty worked on a new granola bar recipe he was hoping to feature on his vlog, but by the way she kept huffing over her knitting, he could tell that even their fearless manager wasn’t able to escape the disappointment that still lingered from their losses before the break underneath the high of the holidays. Bitty glanced over at her and frowned. He had his own frustrations too, but if he was being honest, he was mostly worried about going full-contact again at their next practice.

“Our first game is Friday, and I swear I am going to give you boys an earful if all of this holiday food slows you guys down any.”

“Give them some credit, Foxtrot. If they can survive me churning out pies at record levels, they’ll do fine now.” Bitty rolled his eyes and playfully nudged her shoulder.

She sighed. “I’m just glad you’re finally back. Whiskey’s been doing great as our lead center, but it just isn’t the same without you.”

“You know, y’all are going to have to make due without me soon enough again. Without all of us seniors.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” She wined loudly. “It’s going to be a wreck without you, Bitty. Big, emotional, sweaty hockey players, and It’ll be up to me to keep them in line. I mean, not like it’ll be _hard_. But it’s more fun with help.”

Bitty chuckled and eased the pan of granola into the oven. “I’m flattered you find me so irreplaceable.”

“Hush.”

“I, uh, I should talk to you about something though.” Bitty pulled the oven mitts off and tossed them haphazardly onto the countertop.

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Shoot.”

“So you know how I get a tad wobbly when I get checked?”

She nodded.

“Well, that used to be a lot worse. I don’t really talk about it much because frankly it’s gosh darn embarrassing, but that’s how it was. I used to full on pass out if I got so much as nudged, to the point I was almost pulled from the team. And I’m a little concerned my checking issue might have gotten worse again, considering.”

Ford frowned, thinking over what Bitty told her. “What did you do before, to get you where you were before you got smacked by that piece of shit?”

“Checking practices. First with Jack, then occasionally with Ransom and Holster after he graduated. I haven’t had to do that for a while, though, and I’m not really sure who I’d get to help this time if I do end up needing it. Maybe the frogs, but I’m so used to being the one who takes care of _them_.”

Pulling out her phone, Ford swiped a few times and tapped away rapidly. “How long until those are out of the oven? Also do you have any plans for today?” 

“Um, about a half hour. And no. Why?”

Her phone buzzed several times, and she grinned. “Because both Dex and Nursey are free, Faber is empty all afternoon, and I have the keys. Better to figure this out now rather than in the middle of practice tomorrow, yeah?”

Bitty blinked and then shook his head with a soft smile. “We definitely made a good decision making you our manager.”

“Glad you think so, Bitty. Go ahead and get your gear together so we can leave as soon as your granola bars are done.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bitty dodged a smack from Ford as he ducked out the kitchen.

Facing Dex and Nursey on the ice was harder than Bitty expected. After three years of friendship, they were probably the ones he was most comfortable doing this with, but the threat of being checked had Bitty’s heart in his throat. They started off with simple drills, passing the puck between the three of them in increasingly difficult maneuvers. He had half a moment of warning from Dex before he purposefully knocked Bitty into the sideboards.

Bitty had a flash of a memory of someone hurtling towards him before he opened his eyes. He had dropped to the ice at some point. He didn’t even remember when his eyes slammed shut. Taking a shaky breath, he clenched his jaw and pushed himself back to his feet.

“Are you okay?” Dex peered down at him, Nursey hovering closely behind.

He took another labored breath. “Yeah. Frustrated.” He glanced up and made eye contact with Ford, who was giving him a wary look.

“We don’t have to—“ Nursey started.

“Yes, we do. Again.” Bitty cut him off and skated back out onto center ice. “It’s not nearly as bad as it used to be. I just have to get used to it all over again.” 

They regrouped and worked their way around the ice, until Nursey caught Bitty’s eye and took his turn in knocking him against the wall. Again, Bitty found himself on the ground without any recollection as to how he got there, a searing memory of someone who decidedly wasn’t Dex or Nursey burned into the back of his eyelids. He still managed to push himself back up and keep going, which Bitty counted as a success. That’s one thing he learned from Jack in particular. He had to take his victories where he could.

He took a ragged breath. “Again.” 

Switching turns, Dex and Nursey spent the better part of an hour knocking Bitty around on the ice. Never very hard and always followed by concerned glances. Realistically, Bitty knew he wouldn’t get that luxury during a game, but getting used to the feeling of being hit again was more important than the lack of intent behind the two frogs’ actions. As he pushed himself back onto two blades again, Bitty quietly wondered if checking practices would have been different if they recognized their feelings for each other sooner. Back then, Bitty wanted to hate Jack so badly for all the things he only found endearing now. His focus, his seriousness, his dedication. He imagined circling the ice with Jack in the early hours of the morning, playfully bumping into each other until one of them caught the other in a searing kiss. 

Bitty’s shoulder smacked hard into the sideboard again, and once he blinked the darkness away, reality crashed back down. Even if they had been together then, that wouldn’t change that he needed those practices to hold his own on the team. Jack made him happier than Bitty ever thought possible, but he wasn’t living in some fairy tale where lingering effects of trauma disappeared with a soft press of lips against his own.

He bit back a smile. Perhaps he’d tell Jack about that conclusion later. He would probably be proud of Bitty’s progress on that front.

Again, he found himself on his hands and knees with a dull ache in his shoulder. And again. And again. And again. Each time he felt a striking prickle of fear accompanied by a hard memory before losing a couple seconds. But this time he wasn’t at the mercy of his captain for these practices. He was the captain, which meant he was responsible for pushing himself to continue.

Ford eventually yanked the three of them from the ice before it got too late, even though Bitty was still blacking out with every hit. He didn’t really expect things to go back to his normal after one session, but he definitely felt more prepared for practice. The big thing was that he was still able to get himself back up again. If he could get up, he could keep going. If he could keep going, Hall and Murray had no reason to bench him again. Bitty was back on the ice, and he had something to prove.

On their way back to the Haus, Ford had split off and away from them to head back to her dorm and left the three hockey players to make the trek back from Faber by themselves. Nursey and Dex tossed increasingly colorful chirps back and forth at each other, while Bitty trailed silently behind the two defensemen with his eyes locked on his phone. Too focused on what he needed to do to finally prove himself worthy of being the captain, he opened the calendar app and uneasily eyed the first game he’d play since October. _At Samwell v. Cornell_.


	33. Redemption

Bitty bumped up the sound on his pregame playlist to try and quell some of the nervous energy buzzing around his head. The coaches watched him closely at practices, and while he was still back to obviously struggling through checks, they had enough confidence in him to put him back on the first line. He woke up that morning from another nightmare featuring Cornell’s number thirteen, but Bitty hoped that wouldn’t be enough to throw him any further off his game. He knew that regardless of what happened, everyone would be proud of him for getting back out there and trying. He wanted more for himself, though. This game was a chance to finally prove that the team made the right choice in electing him as captain. Advising from the sidelines only did so much in terms of leadership, and if there was one thing Bitty learned from Jack, he had to take some initiative as captain.

If it weren’t for Jack _taking initiative_ , he never would have made it through his sophomore year on the team.

At a signal from Coach Hall, Bitty yanked the headphones from his ears and eased on the rest of his uniform. Cornell was finishing up their ice time before the game, which meant they had only a few minutes before they needed to be ready. He tried to stay positive. Jack managed to get the night off and drove up earlier, and Bitty quietly hoped his boyfriend’s presence in the stands would give him the edge he needed to get through the game without incident.

“Bitty. You ready for this, bro?” Ollie nudged him lightly. He and Tango were on his line to start, and knowing they had his back helped settle his nerves.

Wicks grinned from the bench across from him. It was weird to see him and Ollie separated for the night, but Bitty trusted the coaches’ judgment.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” He frowned. “And no matter what happens, I want y’all on your best behavior, got it?”

“Aye, Cap.” Wicks rolled his eyes before reaching down to retie the laces on his skates for the third and final time he needed to before the game.

Skating out onto the ice felt surreal. Bitty blinked, trying to adjust to his eyes to the lights, and hoped that this wasn’t some sort of cruel dream. His eyes caught sight of Cornell’s number thirteen and narrowed slightly. His grip on his stick tightened. Dex skated past him on his way into position and clapped a hand on Bitty’s helmet.

“I’ll nail him if he tries anything, cap.”

“Oh, hush.” Bitty shook his head, but flashed Dex a grateful smile. He didn’t want anyone acting recklessly on his behalf, but it helped knowing that his team had his back. Nursey caught his eye and winked, but then the puck dropped and nothing else mattered.

Cornell won the faceoff and took control of the puck, knocking it back to their side of the ice. Following the puck with his eyes, Bitty arced around in front of where Chowder was hovering in front of the goal while Ollie and Tango ganged up on the Cornell forward who had the puck on his stick. The forward passed it away from the Samwell players, and the Cornell player who snatched it up took a shot on the goal. The puck bounced off Chowder’s kneepad and into Bitty’s grasp. Bitty took off towards the opposite goal, but nearly tripped when he felt a rush of air on his left. He glanced back and saw Nursey slamming one of Cornell’s d-men against the boards.

Bitty’s mouth felt dry and one of the Cornell forwards snatched the puck away from him. He swore under his breath.

“Got your back, Bitty. Focus on the puck.” Nursey shouted at him in passing, and Bitty nodded once.

He sped back across the ice and forced himself to focus only on getting back control of the puck. If he let himself panic about being seriously checked—not practice ones—they’d be screwed. Bitty intercepted a pass and caught the puck again. This time he filtered out the sound of Dex checking someone with eyes on Bitty and charged forward towards Cornell’s goal. He couldn’t get a clear shot, so he passed to Ollie, who snuck the puck over the goalie’s right shoulder. The crowd erupted into cheers. Ollie latched onto him grinning, and both Tango and Nursey appeared behind them to join in the celly.

Murray signaled for a line change, and Bitty hauled himself off the ice with a confident smile on his face. He watched Whiskey’s line claim another goal from the bench and hovered on the line between nervous and excited. Glancing back, he could see Jack watching him, and Bitty took a quiet comfort in that.

Samwell lead 2-1 into the second period, and Bitty felt more confident about everything with one period post-injury under his belt. He even managed two goals of his own in quick succession once his line got back on the ice. Bitty felt like he was _flying_.

It only figured that it would happen the minute he wasn’t thinking about it.

He didn’t even have the puck, which was the kicker. Bitty had his eyes trained on Tango, who _did_ have possession of the puck, as he hovered near the edge and intentionally made sure he was open in case the tadpole needed to pass. Dex was fuming in the penalty box after a minor tripping infraction, and Nursey was busy shadowing Tango as their sole defenseman for the moment. Bitty turned his head at the last second to see the number thirteen flash in his peripheral.

He was on the ice when he opened his eyes.

Bitty didn’t even remember the check, but he could feel that it happened by the way every single nerve felt like it was firing. His mouth was dry, and his hands felt clammy in his gloves. Ollie appeared beside him in an instant and offered him a hand up. Bitty accepted the hand gratefully as the sound of the buzzer echoed distantly. In the refuge of excitement at Samwell’s forth goal of the night, Bitty skated over to the bench to take a breath. The check was legal, and beside the soreness in his shoulder, he felt fine.

“You good, Bittle?” Hall waved a hand at him.

He nodded. “Yeah, coach. A little shaken, but I’ll be alright.”

Coach Hall hesitated slightly, obviously remembering Bitty’s last check and how he insisted he was fine then too. He eventually nodded.

“I’ve got to say, though. Lord, I have had it up to _here_ with that number thirteen.” Bitty muttered to himself and skated off to set up for the next faceoff, a frustrated frown settled across his face.

He won the faceoff for Samwell, but the time on the clock ran out before anyone managed to score again. The second intermission passed quickly in a haze of strategic planning, but Bitty found himself on the bench watching Samwell’s third line lead them into the final period. Both teams scored again before Bitty’s line was up again, and he was already itching for the final buzzer.

The residual effects of his check still buzzed through his limbs, and the resulting panic left him slightly exhausted. Above everything, though, he wanted to win.

Although it was unlikely Cornell would gain enough traction to overcome Samwell’s lead, Bitty knew that they couldn’t relax until the end. He caught Tango and Ollie’s eyes and grinned bitterly through the lingering nerves. In the end, they managed it. Samwell won by four points, and Bitty felt his heart leap into his throat when he realized his first game back was a successful one. They won, Bitty made it through a check, and he felt more secure than ever about his position as captain. Jack ambushed him in the locker room with a thrilled hug and muffled congratulations, and they eventually made their escape after they had a loud “ _FOOOIIIINE_ ” shouted their way twice.

Honestly, he couldn’t have been happier. Bitty spent the after party hovering near Jack, close enough to maintain conversation without bringing too much attention to themselves for those who weren’t in on their secret. He expertly dodged Jack’s questions about Bitty’s plans for the future, because he didn’t want to let anything distract him from the happy high he felt.

And because Jack understood and was so good to him, he let Bitty dodge for the moment.


	34. To The Future

Being back in hockey skates still occasionally felt like a dream to Bitty. Those three months almost killed him with waiting, but he did make it through. Even though he would never openly spread it around, absolutely _destroying_ Cornell in his comeback game was one of the most satisfying things he’d ever experienced. He laced up his hockey skates once again on the bench, but the skaters waiting for him on the ice weren’t his boys.

Grace giggled as she and Kat skated past him. They’d both gotten more confident on the ice over the handful of months Bitty had spent with them, and they weren’t the only ones. Amanda flashed him a shy smile once he joined their group. A pang of sadness hit him when he met her eyes, and Bitty quietly hoped that she would be able to find herself a new coach after she moved. She had so much potential, and he’d hate to see her in the same situation with figure skating that he ended up in.

The Murray’s had their daughter, Lily, the week before. She was small and sweet and instantly won over the entire hockey team when they went to go visit the hospital. With Lily’s arrival, though, Penny was back to take skating lessons back over. Realistically, Bitty should have been glad. He didn’t really have the _time_ to coach between hockey gearing up for playoffs, writing his thesis, searching for a job that would anchor him in Providence, and keeping his grades up in general. But he would miss the kids. He missed his campers back in Madison with the same intensity, but being with Jack had taken priority in that circumstance, and he didn’t regret that.

 _This_ , though, was impossibly hard.

The practice went by quickly—too fast for Bitty’s tastes. Each of the kids hugged him goodbye, and Bitty perhaps got a little choked up when Michael wrapped his arms around him. It felt like the end of an era, and Bitty wasn’t sure he was fully okay with giving coaching up.

The thought scared him a little bit. Coaching had never been on his radar before, and between talking with Jack and Coach Murray and even his _dad_ , it seemed like something that was just a placeholder for him. It was supposed to only be something to keep him in shape and placated until he could go back to hockey, but here he was, wishing he could keep going. He’d grown up dreaming of owning a bakery, spending the rest of his life dusted in flour and laughing over an oven while customers sang his praises. The vlog, the bake sales back home, his _major_ —they all pushed him towards that. But he clutched his skates in the locker room of Faber and tried to stop himself from imagining a future partially spent in the cold of an ice rink.

He shut down the thoughts and took a deep breath. There were too many factors that counted against him for him to do that successfully. He needed to get back into practice to be able to coach effectively. He had to find an arena that would be willing to give him ice time on a reliable schedule. He had to establish himself as a coach and figure out his pricing. He’d need students, and _fuck_ if he knew how he’d get them. It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t work.

Bitty took another deep breath and stowed his skates away in his locker. It was ridiculous to try and change his plans when he was so close to graduation. He needed to make the practical decision for once in his life.

His phone buzzed with an incoming call from Jack, and Bitty accepted it with a soft smile.

“Hey, bud. Practice over?”

“Yeah, last one.” Bitty hoped the melancholy in his voice didn’t transfer through the phone.

Jack sighed, indicating he did, in fact, pick up on it. “It doesn’t have to be, you know. I can tell you loved doing this.”

“It’s fine, Jack. I’m fine. I’m just really going to miss being around kids.”

“Don’t tell my team that, or I’ll never see you again with the amount of babysitting they’ll have you do.”

Bitty chuckled. “Hush, you. I’m _happy_ to watch their kids. Occasionally.”

“I know. And I guarantee you that the Falcs’ arena would let you scoot them all around the ice almost whenever you want, too, if you wanted to do that.”

Making the walk back to the Haus from Faber, Bitty held his phone a little tighter. If he tried he could pretend Jack was holding his hand and walking with him, instead of sitting in a hotel room up in Ottawa.

“I care about those kids, Jack. I hope they’ll stick with it. They all have such potential.”

“I’m sure they will.”

“Mostly I’m worried about Amanda. You remember me mentioning her?”

Jack paused, thinking. “Maybe?”

“Professor Macintosh’s daughter?”

“Oh. Right. I remember now.”

Bitty nodded absently. “She’s apparently actually transferring to Bryant next school year, and Amanda’s been all upset about trying finding a new skating coach.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that too much, Bits.”

“Why not?”

“Bryant is like, oh, twenty minutes or so down the road from Providence? I think. There’s so much skating in this town, I’d be surprised if she couldn’t find a good coach.”

Bitty stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “What?”

“Hm?” Bitty could almost hear the way Jack’s eyebrows quirked upwards.

“Amanda is going to be close to Providence?”

“Uh, yeah. I’d be surprised if they didn’t actually end up living within city limits, based on the housing situation around here. You can even check up on her if you want once you move here.”

Bitty’s mouth felt dry as his brain worked through things fast. He scrambled to get a better grip on his phone and quickly said goodbye to Jack.

“I’ll call you back later, sweetheart, I have to make a phone call.”

“A-alright. I have practice at five if you’re going to call back.”

“Okay.” Bitty hung up and scrolled through his contacts before selecting a number. It had been a while since he called her, but he didn’t know who else to turn to. She always welcomed his calls, even though it had been years since she had any sort of obligation to him.

The phone rang twice before an accented female voice picked up. “Hello?”

“Katya? It’s Eric Bittle.”

“I’m aware. I still have your number saved, little one.”

He took a deep breath and plowed on before he could stop himself. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Ma’am, How much did you charge my parents for my skating lessons?”

She sighed. “Why are you asking, Eric?”

“I… I think I want to start coaching. And—and I need some help figuring that out.”

“So you called me.”

“You’ve always been my go-to when it came to figure skating.”

Katya hummed softly. “Figure skating? Not hockey?”

“I do love hockey…” Bitty finally started walking again, needing the movement to keep focused. “But I loved figure skating first. I helped out coaching these kids, and it… it felt like…”

“Like coming home.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it really did.”

Bitty could hear Katya rolling her eyes as she laughed softly. “And you are certain about coaching? Why not try for a comeback?”

“Well…” He fiddled with his jacket zipper. “I’d have what, four good years left in me, Katya? And anyway, I don’t think I’d be ready for that.”

“Four years is a lot of gold, Eric.”

“You’ve always had a lot of faith in me.”

She huffed through the receiver, the way she did when Eric said something she didn’t quite agree with. “I saw the enormous _potential_ in you, and that was only boosted by how much love you put into each and every second on the ice. I don’t give out praises very easily. You know this.”

“Yeah. I know.” Bitty hesitated before continuing softly. “What should I do, Katya?”

“First of all, come see me. You know I am in New Haven, and it is not that far a drive from that college of yours.”

Bitty laughed at that.

“Secondly, find yourself a student. Coach for a year. See how you like it. But use it as an opportunity to get yourself in competition condition again. Use those three years you seem to think you only have to do what you always wanted to. Go out with a bang in a good way this time.”

“I…Thank you. I think hearing you say it gave me the kick I the pants I needed to get back up again.”

“If you need me, you know where to find me.” She paused. “And I was serious about you driving down here, Eric Bittle. Let me know when you are free and we can do lunch.”

Bitty laughed and let a grin break across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

They bid their farewells, and Bitty eased his phone back into his pants pocket. For the first time in years, he suddenly felt like he was back on solid ground again. He had a plan, and he felt like he could actually follow through. Bitty pulled his hat further down over his ears and let out a soft laugh.

 _Besides, who said I can’t skate_ and _run a bakery?_

He hurried across campus, eager to get that one last stone settled into position. Coming to the building that housed Samwell’s history department, he walked the halls while studying the nameplates mounted beside each office. Eventually, he found the right one, knocked once, and waited for the go-ahead to enter.

“Professor Macintosh? Do you have a second?”

She glanced up from her computer screen and frowned softly. “Of course, Eric. Today was your last day coaching, wasn’t it?”

“About that.” He took a deep breath to try and steady his pounding heart and resisted the urge to deflect. “Amanda told me you’re leaving Samwell after graduation, and, well, I’ll be moving to Providence, and…”

Professor Macintosh relaxed her expression and watched Eric curiously.

“I’d love to coach your daughter full time starting in May, if you’d let me.”

She studied the earnest look on Bitty’s face with a stern expression before relaxing into a soft smile. With a wave from the professor, Bitty sank down into an empty chair and bit down the apprehension rising in his chest. Regardless of how this went or what Professor Macintosh said, the fact he was trying had to mean something. It had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long journey, but there's one chapter left + an epilogue. Thank you so much to everyone who's kept up wit this pic while I've been writing it, and I'm thrilled so many people seem to like my writing??? Amazing??? 
> 
> Anyway, I'm already planning a sequel, but it'll probably be a hot sec before I start posting it. If you want to scream about these hockey boys in the meantime hmu @masquerace on pretty much all social media.


	35. The End

Typing away at his computer, Bitty pulled the blankets wrapped around him a little tighter. He was on page fifty-seven of the final draft of his thesis, and the conclusiveness of his situation was finally settling. He graduated in three weeks. Three weeks left of his time at Samwell. The thought hurt a bit, but glancing up at Jack from across the apartment—no, _their_ apartment. Bitty was moving there in three weeks. It was theirs now—he knew that these last few days were going to be unbearable to endure. It seemed like everything was inching along towards the next step.

College hockey was over, and the Samwell Men’s Hockey team almost made it all the way. They had an eight game win streak once Bitty got back on the ice that brought all eyes down on them as they went into playoffs. They all fought hard, too. They made it all the way to the final game where they lost by two points to Quinnipiac. Everyone was disappointed, but Bitty couldn’t have been happier with how things went in his final season. There were a lot of bumps in the road along the way, but it all helped him get to where he was. And what he was, was incredibly proud of his boys.

He officially gave away his dibs, too. That really felt final, even if it took him a couple tries to figure it out. He initially offered them to Dex, even if he was already living in the Haus, but he turned Bitty down. While Bitty figured that giving Dex and Nursey their own spaces would help smooth over any arguments in the next year, Dex told him that he had actually gotten used to having Nursey around all the time and that he didn’t feel like he needed to move out. It was unexpected but made Bitty smile at how much his frogs had grown over the past few years. He instead ended up passing his dibs off to Ford. He missed having a manager in the Haus his senior year, and if anyone was going to keep it from falling apart it was going to be her. Not to mention, he really had to thank her for the support he offered him while he was still figuring the whole ice skating thing out.

On that note, he reminded himself to send Georgia some thank you muffins for helping him schedule a few days of ice time at the Falc’s arena each week. He didn’t really need all that time to train Amanda, but there was something he hadn’t mentioned to anyone aside from Kayta. He was going to try and compete again. It was going to be a lot of work, and he was definitely going in coachless, but Bitty had his hopes up. He didn’t expect to become well-known or some sort of overnight icon, but for him everything came back to skating, and he was tired of being the only thing in his way from doing something he loved. Even if it was for only a year or two. Jack was going to be so incredibly proud of him when Bitty finally told him about it. _Lord_ , so would his _parents_.

Jack chuckled at something on his laptop, prompting Bitty to glance up and grin at him. His boyfriend looked sheepish for half a moment before pantomiming that Bitty really ought to get back to work. Bitty poked his tongue out at him.

“How many pages do you have left, bud?”

Bitty paused to think. “About twenty or so? I’m starting to wrap up everything into a singular theory at this point.”

“And how many days left until you have to have it in?”

“Technically? Six. Although I bet if I asked I can get double that.”

Jack hummed softly. “Why don’t you take a short break? I have a few things I want to run past you.”

Bitty set his laptop aside and got up from the couch to perch on the arm of Jack’s chair. He had been scrolling through some Buzzfeed article, but he switched tabs when Bitty sat back down.

“So,” he started, “Since you’re moving here soon, I wanted to make sure that we had everything we needed to accommodate the both of us. I know I already have the basics, but you should have space for all your things, too.”

“Oh, honey. I’m sure I’ll be fine with whatever you decide to do.”

Jack elbowed him gently. “You say that, but I still want you to give the green light before I order anything. So, uh, I figured I’d get a second matching nightstand, since long term just having the one doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, eh?”

“That would be nice, yes.”

“And, uh, I know you like working on things around the kitchen and on the couch, but I thought I’d get a desk, maybe?” Jack pointed over towards the pool table. “We have that open area over there I was thinking we could put it. I was thinking about the bedroom, but since this is something both of us can use…”

“If one of us is working while the other is trying to sleep, it could be a little frustrating. That’s a good idea. Did you want to do shelving near it, too?”

Jack frowned. “We could, but with the pool table…”

“If we rotate it, it should be fine.”

“Okay. Yeah, we can do that. And I’ll get an extra bookshelf for the bedroom, too. Just in case.”

Bitty ended up taking a much longer break than he planned, but he wasn’t worried. Things were actually going well. With Jack by his side and his friends at his back, he realized he wasn’t really scared of the unknown anymore. He found himself a little more willing to take a couple risks because he knew if anything blew up in his face, he had a whole group of people waiting to catch him. He blinked back a few tears that welled up in his eyes. He never in a million years thought he would be able to have this. Not just happiness, but _comfortable_ happiness.

A little overwhelmed with the realization, Bitty buried his face in Jack’s neck. He threaded a hand in Bitty’s hair and sighed softly.

“Hey, sweetpea?”

“Yeah, Bits?”

“I love you a whole lot, you know that?”

Jack pulled Bitty into his lap and squeezed him close. “Yeah, I know. Guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you a whole lot, too.”

Bitty sniffled a bit and huffed into the collar of Jack’s shirt. “Oh, Lord. You’d think you saying that wouldn’t still get me all kinds of worked up, but here I am blubbering because my wonderful boyfriend told me he loves me.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“Shut up, you big old dweeb."

Jack pressed a chaste kiss to Bitty’s forehead. “So rude.”

They sat curled together and watched silently as the sun slowly sank lower on the horizon. Although the weekend wasn’t forever, the feeling was a prelude to what their new life would be soon. Things wouldn’t be smooth sailing for the rest of their lives following Bitty’s graduation—expecting it to be so was only foolish—but he knew they could handle whatever happened.

Together.

And certainly not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who kept up with this while I wrote it!! This has been incredible to write, and I just love all these boys so much. ;-; There's an epilogue coming, but with the way that's going it might turn into a full-blown sequel. So, keep your eyes on that?? ANYWAY. Thank you so much for reading this fic that just started out as "what if bitty got hurt??" <3


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